Green Dragon
by Marci
Summary: --Chapter 30-THE END!-- BV CG K18 Highschool fic, with a slight twist. Bulma has been depressed for months, until she's given the surprise of a lifetime, and a whole lot more than she ever expected.
1. Green Dragon

Hey, what'd'you know, I'm making another high school DBZ fic! :P Heehee, I just can't help myself. This time it's not just a Bulma/Vegeta get together, but a Chi-Chi/Goku and a Krillin/18! Yay! Hope everyone enjoys this as much as my others. I'm also throwing in that other twist (you'll know what it is by the end of the chapter) that some authors have tackled. I don't know how well I'll do with it, but I'm hoping this fic can be half as successful as my others.  
  
I love my readers! :D  
  
**************************************************  
  
No matter how much people tried to cheer her up, Bulma Briefs always seemed to be in a miserable mood. Peers in her local high school blamed it on her recent break-up with long-term boyfriend Yamcha Yosano; her best friends Chi-Chi Mau and Krillin Roshi agreed, though thought there was something else on her mind that she purposely kept to herself. They didn't dare inquire about it, for they knew their friend all too well; no one purposely upset Bulma. No one in their right mind anyway.  
  
For the months following her break-up, Bulma kept mostly to herself, rarely calling her friends; if they wanted to spend time with her, they called her. It wasn't that she didn't want to see them, she loved her friends dearly, but something was just missing in her life that she needed to find. It wasn't Yamcha, she found that out a week after he was out of the picture; so what was it? She was the richest, most popular girl in school, not to mention the smartest, she could get any guy she wanted or didn't want, but still something wasn't right, something crucial was missing. She hardly thought that sitting around and waiting for the missing piece was the right thing to do, but she had run out of ideas. Her calling wasn't in her lab work, her school work, or the few dates she'd had in the past months; it wasn't in her family, her friends, or the strangers she conversed with everyday when she worked the desk for Capsule Corp. All those things were great for her, and made her happy, but none of them was what was missing, because she had all those things. It drove her insane, night after night, trying to figure out what she, Bulma Briefs, didn't have in her life.  
  
Chi-Chi suggested ambition, for Bulma really had none; everything she had had been handed to her on the silver platter, she really never worked hard at anything. Bulma shrugged the idea off though; she knew that if she needed ambition that it would be easy enough for her to obtain. There were many things that couldn't just be given to her, but she didn't want them, she was content with what she had.  
  
Krillin suggested another boyfriend; Bulma immediately shot that idea out of her mind. She did not need a man to make her happy, she could find happiness on her own. Love, on the other hand was something that she knew she needed, but she always brushed that off; she was too young for love. It would come later when she was ready for it.  
  
Her parents both thought she could use more time away from the lab, but she refused to abandon her refuge. Nothing would keep her from her projects; they were what kept her sane when nothing else could. That and her music; she loved classical, songs by Mozart, Beethoven, Bach, and all the other great composers. She listened to that when she wanted to think, but when it came to happiness, the music that she listened to when in the lab, it was her favorite bands; Budokai 20, The Dragon Kids, The Ginyu, Kamiwise, and most importantly, her ultimate favorite, Green Dragon. She could listen to them for days straight, though unfortunately she had other obligations: school, work, her friends.  
  
School was too easy for her academic-wise. Socially, however, she was beginning to slip; no longer was she the happy-go-lucky heiress to Capsule Corp. who would help any one student no matter who they were. Now she simply glided through the halls, oblivious to any activity that didn't involve her; a freshman boy had been beaten-up and thrown against the locker next to hers and she didn't bat an eyelash; the old Bulma would have given the beater a beating tenfold. Girls who used to look up to her, now whispered about her behind her back, each having their own answer to her problems. She didn't think she had any problems, just that she was in a hard place that she needed to figure out how to get out of.  
  
Work didn't seem to faze her at all anymore. She used to dread working the desk at Capsule Corp., but now she just nodded at her father and did her job, being as friendly with the customers as she could muster, which really wasn't much to speak of. She was put on desk less and less, until she was in the lab all the time, never having to converse with the customers, which was what she always wanted, but it didn't make her as happy as she thought. The work was too easy and she spent most of her time either repairing things other scientists messed up, or showing them how to do a certain thing. She wished her father would be more picky about who he did and did not hire.  
  
Now, her friends were great, but even when she was with them, it was like they weren't even there. They would get into a conversation, and before long Bulma was starring off into space, nothing inparticular on her mind. She'd been yelled at many a time for doing just that. And they did try to help her, but when nothing seemed to work, they gave up and just tried to be there for her.  
  
It seemed nothing could bring her back to her normal self.  
  
**********************************************************  
  
"Bulma, dear!" came her father's voice, as he knocked on her bedroom door.  
  
"Hmm?" was her reply; she'd just been sitting on her bed, listening to Tchaikovsky, and starring out the window at the rainstorm that reflected her mood perfectly, nothing crucial on her mind; nothing ever was these days.  
  
"May I come in?"  
  
"Yeah," she sighed. Even talking was exhausting for her now.  
  
"I have something for you," he said, beaming with joy as he held her present behind his back.  
  
"I don't need anything." She didn't even look up at him. She knew she was being rude, but somehow that didn't seem to bother her as it used to.  
  
"I know you'll want these though." He tossed an unmarked envelope to her, which landed on the floor beside her bed. She didn't even glance at it. "Go on, pick it up." With a heavy sigh, she reached down and retrieved the envelope. "Open it." Another sigh, and she opened it.  
  
"Holy kuso!" she swore, covering her hands over her mouth. "Dad, where did you get these!?"  
  
"I called in some favors," he said happily, overjoyed to finally see that smile of hers he loved so much.  
  
"Thank you so much!" Before he knew it, her arms were around his neck in the kind of hug he never thought she'd give again. "I love you daddy," she gasped, kissing his cheek, then diving for the phone. Quietly, as he tried to keep back tears, he exited the room; his wife would faint when she heard about this.  
  
***************************************************************  
  
The rain pounded relentlessly on the windowpanes, drowning the freshly cut lawns at Capsule Corp. Inside, however, the mood was surprisingly quite contrasting to the outside conditions. In the warm living room, where the fireplace was ablaze, Bulma sat on the edge of her seat, playing anxiously with an envelope and looking at the clock every few seconds. She was almost too excited to sit, having to suppress several urges to pace the length of the room, or jump around in utter happiness. She couldn't remember the last time she was this happy.  
  
The faint sound of a car pulling into the driveway was all she needed to set her off; she bolted for the door, swinging it open, and scaring the girl on the other side.  
  
"Kuso!" the raven-haired girl on the other side swore, trying to free herself from her friend's powerful grip as she was pulled into the living room. "What's going on, Bulma? You sounded ready to explode on the phone."  
  
"You won't believe what I just got, Chi!" she squealed, brandishing the envelope in her friend's face.  
  
"Junk mail," she sighed, leaning back into the soft fluffy couch cushions; Bulma had seemed to bring her down in her mood over the past months, her happiness didn't seem to register quite yet.  
  
"No!" She threw the envelope on her lap, barely able to keep from jumping around. "I got tickets for Green Dragon!"  
  
"You're kidding!" Chi-Chi gasped, ripping open the envelope and practically drooling over the three tickets that were inside. "I thought they were all sold out!"  
  
"Me too! But then my dad surprised me with these. I HAD to call you before I lost my mind." She flopped down on the couch next to her, snatching up the tickets. "Krillin's on his way too."  
  
"You think he'll be able to go?"  
  
"He's going whether he wants to or not."  
  
"Where am I going?"  
  
They turned their heads sharply towards the door, just as a short guy with a clean-shaven bald head entered, taking a seat in a chair opposite them.  
  
"What's your favorite band, Krillin?" Bulma inquired, slipping the envelope behind her back.  
  
"Green Dragon, without a doubt. Why?"  
  
"You like her, don't you?"  
  
"Why?" he repeated, ignoring her friendly jarring.  
  
"Are you busy two weeks from Saturday?"  
  
"Yeah…" He arched an eyebrow in confusion. "That's when Maron comes home, just before school starts."  
  
"Kuso!" both girls swore in unison.  
  
"You have to cancel your plans," Chi-Chi demanded, grabbing his wrists.  
  
"Why?" They still hadn't told him what was going on.  
  
"Because, Bulma's dad got us all tickets for Green Dragon two weeks from Saturday."  
  
"Stop pulling my leg," Krillin spat, shrugging Chi-Chi's hands away. "Those tickets have been sold out since the first week they went on sale."  
  
"See for yourself," Bulma said, rather angrily, jabbing the envelope at Krillin's chest; he was bringing her mood down quickly.  
  
"How did he get these?" He looked to Bulma, then back to the envelope, eyes wide in surprise.  
  
"He's the president of Capsule Corp., Krill. I think he can pull a few strings."  
  
"Kami, I can't believe we're going to see Green Dragon," he sighed, starring at the tickets longingly.  
  
"Correction," Chi-Chi said, ripping the tickets from his hand and handing them to Bulma. "You're going to meet your air-headed girlfriend at the airport. We're going to see Green Dragon."  
  
"She's not an air-head!" He could barely convince himself with the statement.  
  
"But you are going there instead, aren't you? You're going to miss pit tickets for Green Dragon to pick up your damn girlfriend who can barely remember your name!" Bulma roared, looming over him.  
  
"Pit tickets?" Chi-Chi and Krillin asked in unison, both trying to grab for the tickets at the same time.  
  
"Yes, pit tickets. Come on Chi, we need to go decide who we're bringing with us." She turned her nose up at him, stomping out of the living room.  
  
"She'll calm down soon enough," Chi-Chi assured him, patting his back. "Just think this over, ok? You can see Maron anytime, Green Dragon is once in a lifetime."  
  
**********************************************************  
  
Bulma was in a mix of emotions when the day for the concert finally came; she was excited and happy to see Green Dragon after loving them for so long, but since Krillin wouldn't be there, it brought her down to somewhere in the middle. She and Chi-Chi packed Bulma's car, trying to keep their spirits up; it was his own fault that he wasn't going. They hadn't been able to decide whom to bring with them either, for Bulma hadn't talked to anyone save Chi-Chi and Krillin all summer; her attitude drove them all away. So they decided that if they saw someone who needed a ticket outside the stadium, which there always was, they would give the extra ticket to them.  
  
"Ready?" Bulma asked as she tossed her purse in the back seat on top of her suitcase; they were staying over night since the concert was over three hours away. Bulma's dad had made reservations for them already in a hotel a few blocks away from the stadium.  
  
"Yeah," Chi-Chi sighed with a weak smile; she missed Krillin just as much as Bulma did.  
  
"Me too." It hadn't been Bulma. They turned around slowly in the direction it had come from. "I hope I'm not too late."  
  
"Krillin!" Bulma gasped, running over and hoisting him off the ground in a bear hug; he hated when she did that, but he let it slide this time. "You're really coming?"  
  
"Sure am, if I still can that is."  
  
"How did you ditch Maron?"  
  
"Let's just say that she won't be a problem anymore." He smiled weakly at her; he didn't need to tell them what had happened.  
  
"Well, we better get going before we miss the concert," Chi-Chi said excitedly, grabbing Krillin's suitcase and throwing it in the trunk.  
  
Bulma didn't think she'd ever been this happy.  
  
**********************************************************  
  
---Chapter 1! Hey! What did everyone think of the beginning of my newest fic? Like? Don't like? So-so? Tell me! Heehee! :P I think I did pretty damn well if you ask me, but I'm sort of bias :P Oh, how do you like the band names? I took them from some of my faves:  
  
Budokai 20 (Matchbox 20)  
  
The Dragon Kids (The Get Up Kids)  
  
The Ginyu (The Ataris)  
  
Kamiwise (Pennywise)  
  
Green Dragon (Green Day)  
  
I'll most likely use the real bands' songs as the fake bands' songs, cause that's a hell of a lot easier than making up songs on my own. :P  
  
REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (Reviews=More Chapters!)  
  
Next time: The concert…  
  
Note:   
  
Bulma-18  
  
Vegeta-18  
  
Chi-Chi-17  
  
Goku-17  
  
18-18  
  
Krillin-18  
  
17-18  
  
Maron-17 


	2. The Concert

Last time:  
  
"Well, we better get going before we miss the concert," Chi-Chi said excitedly, grabbing Krillin's suitcase and throwing it in the trunk.  
  
Bulma didn't think she'd ever been this happy.  
  
*****************************************************************  
  
They pulled into the hotel parking lot around 5:00PM, which gave them a solid two hours to get everything situated before the concert. For nearly the entire ride up there, they blasted Green Dragon CDs, screaming the lyrics, and banging their hands to the songs. After two hours, however, their voices started to ache and Bulma slipped in one of her classical CDs to put them in a calm mood before the concert riot. And they were going to need all that energy in the pit.  
  
"My Kami," Chi-Chi sighed, falling back on her and Bulma's bed; Krillin would be sleeping in the other one. "I still cannot believe we're going to see Green Dragon. We're in the damn hotel only like five blocks away from the stadium and I still can't believe it! This has got to be the best day of my life. I can die after this day."  
  
"Tell me about it," Bulma mused, drooling over her CD cover. She was "in love" with the lead singer. Chi-Chi's eyes were for the bassist, however, and Krillin couldn't take his eyes off the TV when the drummer, and only female, was on it. She was also a singer in the band, though mostly played the drums, her passion, or so said their biography. There was another member of the band as well. He was the official secondary singer and played guitar when the lead singer did not, which rarely happened. And when the girl sung this fourth member played the drums in her stead.  
  
"How long do you think it'll take us to walk over there?" Krillin asked, starring out the window at the stadium that was just visible on a hill in the distance.  
  
"Krillin, there is no way in hell we're going to be late for this. We've all waited too long to miss it. We can leave now if you're worried about it."  
  
"No," Chi-Chi protested, jumping and running for the bathroom. "I'm not going to the concert looking like this!"  
  
"You look fine," Bulma sighed, never caring much to prep herself for any occasion, no matter how big. Sure she was beautiful, anyone could see that, but the way she presented herself sometimes turned people away. From behind one wouldn't be able to tell her from a man. She tended to wear clothes that were a size too big and her hair in a low ponytail.  
  
"You might not like glamming up, which is all fine and dandy," she said, snatching her make-up bag from her suitcase. "But I refuse to leave this hotel room without looking like a movie star."  
  
"We're not here to pick up guys, Chi."  
  
"I know that. But—" A sudden knock at the door stopped her mid-sentence. "How the hell is that?"  
  
"Hey! I saw you all come in," a voice on the other side yelled. "I'm in a room now the hall. You're going to the concert, right?"  
  
"Yeah," Chi-Chi answered, ignoring Bulma's signals to not speak to the stranger.  
  
"Well guess who's staying in this very hotel!?"  
  
Chi-Chi ran over and swung open the door, pulling in the short brunette on the other side. She struck her immediately as looking familiar, but her brain was racing too fast to settle on that point.  
  
"Who?"  
  
"Green Dragon!" She grabbed Chi-Chi's arms, as if they were old friends. "Kami, can you believe it? I just saw them in the lobby a few seconds ago and I ran up here to tell you guys."  
  
"Why would you tell us?" Bulma asked, quite unnerved by this girl.  
  
"Cause I know you. You're Bulma Briefs," she said pointing to Bulma. "And you're Chi-Chi Mau, and over there on the bed, that's Krillin Roshi."  
  
"How—"  
  
"I go to Orange Star with you guys. You probably don't know who I am 'cause I'm a Junior."  
  
Krillin decided to approach the door at that point, suddenly realizing where he knew her from.  
  
"Maris?" he asked, thinking how odd it was to see her there. "Maris Idane?" He knew her name for some reason, though couldn't exactly put his finger on the place he knew her from. Certainly not school, for she said she was a Junior, and they were all Seniors.  
  
"The one and only. And you're probably wondering where you know me from." He nodded. "Remember that day when you and that blonde chickadee got into this big fight at the mall? You know, the one where she threw your bags into the fountain and then yelled louder when you jumped in after them."  
  
"My new Green Dragon CD was in one of those bags," he said quietly.  
  
"Well, remember after she stormed off I came over to you and told you I saw the whole thing and bought us some ice cream?"  
  
"Right!" He remembered that day exactly as she said it. How could he have forgotten her? Though it was quite a long time ago. "You even told me you went to school with me and knew who I was, and I remembered thinking how strange it was. And then you said—"  
  
"Name's Maris Idane, the one and only," Maris laughed, scooping Krillin into a bear hug. It was more than clear to the group that she was a very touchy-feely person. "So, where are your tickets? My aunt works for a ticket vender and got me a ticket in the pit. Only one though," she sighed. "So I'm here all by myself. But at least I'm here. I can't wait!"  
  
"Pit, eh?" Chi-Chi glanced at Bulma, who nodded reluctantly. She didn't know this girl, yet there was something about her that was so appealing. She was friendly sure, but Bulma could definitely see herself getting to know her. "So, you're going to hang out with us in the pit, aren't you?"  
  
"Could I?"  
  
"Wouldn't ask if you couldn't." Chi-Chi swung her arm around Maris' shoulder and walked out of the room, the others following behind. "Now where did you say Green Dragon was?"  
  
****************************************************************  
  
The search party found themselves in the lobby in a matter of minutes, creeping around like robbers and looking around the corners before taking the turn. Only Maris seemed sane about the whole ordeal, having already seen the band a few moments earlier. As they walked she declared her love for the secondary singer. "I just love his long black hair," she sighed as if starring at his poster right then.  
  
"I didn't think the lobby was this far away," Chi-Chi groaned. But just as she said it, they found themselves in the lobby, empty save an old couple who were just checking out. "Kuso! They're already gone."  
  
"Well it's not like we're not going to see them tonight," said Maris cheerfully. "And then they'll come back here, same as us. And you know what?" She gave them no time even to ponder a guess. "I haven't seen one other younger person in this hotel since I got here last night. And believe me, I've been scouting for them. I've only seen adults with little children and older couples like them." She motioned to the couple as they exited the building. "I think all the people our age are staying at the two bigger hotels across the street from the stadium. They probably thought that Green Dragon would be staying in either of those places. They're smarter to come here and not be stalked by a bunch of crazy, screeching fans."  
  
"We thought so too," came a deep and friendly masculine voice from behind the group. They all turned around slowly, coming face to face with the very love of Maris. She took a deep, steady breath, almost unable to tear her eyes away from his beautifully chiseled face. He was alone.  
  
"Hi," came Maris' small voice. She reached her hand out immediately. There was no way in hell she was going to act just like the screeching fans she so hated, and was just complaining about. "I'm Maris." Her voice was becoming stronger, but her new friends couldn't seem to find their own. "We're all here for the concert."  
  
"Hi Maris," he replied, taking her hand and pulling her into a swift, quick hug. "I can't tell you how great it is to finally meet some fans that don't jump up and down, and squeal every time they see one of us. Oh, and I'd introduce myself, but there's really no point. You came to the concert for a reason."  
  
"I'm Chi-Chi," Chi-Chi suddenly said, finding her voice. True she did not particularly favor this member of Green Dragon, but there was no denying her attraction to him. He was absolutely gorgeous.  
  
"Hello Chi. Can I call you Chi?"  
  
She nodded vigorously. No doubt she'd be talking about this for the rest of the night.  
  
"And who might you two be?"  
  
Bulma smiled at this. He was addressing Krillin as well, not at all shallow the way she expected band members to be.  
  
"I'm Bulma."  
  
"And I'm Krillin."  
  
"Bulma? Why does that name sound so familiar?" the black-haired Dragon asked. "I know it's not common."  
  
"She's the heiress of Capsule Corp. in Satan City," Maris piped in. "She's just about as famous as you guys, though I don't suspect there are posters of her hanging in teenage boys' rooms."  
  
He laughed loudly at this, sending a shiver through all the girls.  
  
"Bulma Briefs. Why I never thought I'd actually meet the co-inventor of dino caps. You and your father are truly amazing."  
  
"Thank you," she replied, not at all giddy and uncomfortable anymore. It was like they'd known him for years. And the same with Maris. She seemed to fit in perfectly with them. It was a wonder that she hadn't always been there. "Everyone usually gives my dad all the credit."  
  
"Well they shouldn't. But hey, I really need to get going. We need to be at the stadium in a half an hour for sound check and stuff. It was nice meeting you all. Especially you Bulma." He gave her a little wink and turned to leave, only to stop a few feet away and turn back around. "Seriously," he sighed with a little laughed. "You didn't really think I'd up and leave without inviting you all backstage."  
  
"Wh-What?" Krillin stuttered, acting just the way he had when he'd first found out about the tickets. "What d'you mean, backstage?"  
  
"After the concert, of course," he replied. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out four laminated backstage passes on necklace strings. "Here," he said, handing one to each of them. "We're all allowed to bring back at least four people, if we want. But no one ever seems to find that many that aren't fainting or screaming. Thank Kami you four showed up. It gets kind of boring just with me and the other band members. We need a change of scenery sometimes. And it's so ironic that I find you all are from Satan City." He blushed slightly, then added, "Sorry. I'm rambling. I always ramble."  
  
"It's quite alright," Maris assured. "But what's so ironic about us being from Satan City?"  
  
"We're all from Satan City, too," he laughed. "Just no one knows it. Well, you all do now. Our agent concocted some bullshit story about us all being from Tokyo. She thought the 'small city' image wouldn't do us any good. Even though Satan City is far from small. But I suppose nothing compared to Tokyo. And here I am, rambling again, and I think I'm late. Oh well, it was great talking to you all. Sorry that I did all the talking. Bye Maris, Chi, Bulma, Krillin. I'll see you all after the concert." And with that he was gone, leaving the group in a state of hysteria and mild panic.  
  
"Holy Kami I cannot believe he just saw me like THIS!" Chi-Chi stammered, then turned and ran towards their hotel room to get ready for the concert, her backstage pass pressed protectively to her chest.  
  
**************************************************************  
  
It was more than a nightmare for the group to get to their section in the stadium. Thousands of fans were screaming and shoving and being all around rude when Maris would politely say, "Excuse me." Bulma found their behavior inexcusable and simply began shoving through the crowd, not caring who she elbowed or kicked. The others followed suit, apologizing for Bulma's temper when they could.  
  
"Well that wasn't worth it," Bulma huffed. "I think some bitch took my hair tie. I specifically remember pulling my hair back. Do any of you have one?"  
  
"Yeah," Maris said, pulling one off her wrist. "I always have a ton handy."  
  
"Thanks."  
  
"Hey Krill," Chi-Chi said, wrapping her arm around his shoulders, ignoring the redhead to her right that scoffed at her. Their backstage passes were clearly visible to everyone. "What's up? You don't seem all excited like you were before."  
  
"I am. Believe, I'm about to faint," he laughed. "I'm just in a little bit of awe right now. And I still can't believe we're going backstage. I probably will faint back there."  
  
"Aren't you glad Maron is out of the picture now?" she asked cautiously. If he faltered, she didn't see it.  
  
"I miss her. But you know, you guys were right. She never did like me really. I don't even remember why she wanted to date me in the first place…The concert is definitely worth it though."  
  
"Shut up," Maris suddenly spat, startling the group. In the short time they'd known her she'd never really raised her voice and seemed completely mellow. "Sorry. The curtains are opening."  
  
The crowd went silent for a moment, as if everyone was holding their breath. The suspense was so thick that there seemed no air to breath even if anyone could. A moment later a tall, very good-looking guy with crazy spiky hair walked out on stage, a bass guitar slung around his shoulder. Chi-Chi nearly fainted at the sight of him. He was beyond gorgeous to her.  
  
"I have some bad news for you all," came his deep, hypnotizing voice. The crowd went into a frenzy. "For the next few hours you're going to have to put up with some ghastly tunes and horrid singing. I apologize now for any damaged caused to your eardrums on account of our ridiculously awful music."  
  
The crowd immediately burst into tears of laughter, as did the man on stage. He motioned for the rest of the band to come out, two of which bore sullen faces, and the other being the secondary singer from the hotel.  
  
"I'm under the impression that you all know who we are," came the secondary singers voice. "Green Dragon, of course. And our names—just incase you suffer from short-term memory loss; I'm 17. That lovely lady back there on the drums is my twin sister, 18." The blonde at the drums waved princess style to the crowd, her face still bearing a look of pure boredom. But the guys in the crowd seemed to either go wild, or stand stock-still as Krillin did. It was a stadium full of teenagers in love. "Our bassist goes by the name Goku." The spiky haired man waved, and Chi-Chi could have sworn he was looking directly at her. "And the guy that all the women seem to flock to—though I don't know why—our lead singer, Vegeta." Bulma could barely keep her eyes off him as he stood there, guitar around his shoulder, starring blankly somewhere into the crowd. His jet-black hair stood straight on end, a feat that no fan had ever accomplished with any amount of gel—his hair was natural—and his onyx eyes were mesmerizing. She almost didn't hear when they began to play their first song.  
  
Vegeta stood behind his mic, strumming at his guitar, knowing, of course, exactly when to begin. And as the first words passed through his lips, Bulma knew that he was the man she wanted to marry.  
  
"Hey old man in woman's shoes. I wonder if he knows I think he's craaazy," came Vegeta's voice. Bulma almost couldn't believe that that voice was coming from that face. "When he was young did he have dreams of wearing woman's shoes and being crazy?… It makes me wonder when I grow to be that age, will I be walking down the street begging for your spare change?… Or will I grow that old? Will I still be around? The way I carry on I'll end up six feet underground and waste away..." He glanced around the crowd, and Chi-Chi bet on her life that he was starring directly at Bulma, and then continued to sing. "When the old man was in school did the golden rule make him go crazy? Or did he hide away from hopes behind a smile and smoking dope? It's craaazy." And on the song went, lulling the audience with the lyrics and soothing voice that sang so magnificently. "…It keeps my head spinning around, and waste away..."  
  
Immediately the next song began, and the most seductive smirk came to Vegeta's lips. Bulma knew that he liked this next song, and as the beat came, her grin widened; one of her favorites.  
  
"…I pledge allegiance to the underworld one nation under dog there of which I stand alone; a face in the crowd—" He pointed in the direction of Bulma and the group, though he could have been pointing anywhere. "—unsung against the mold; without a doubt, singled out, the only way I know—cause I want to be the minority I don't need your authority. Down with the moral majority 'cause I want to be the minority!… Stepped out of the line like a sheep runs from the herd, marching out of time, to my own beat now. The only way I know!… One light, one mind, flashing in the dark, blinded by the silence of a thousand broken hearts! 'For crying out loud,' she screamed unto me, a free for all, fuck 'em all, you are your own sight!" And then Bulma couldn't stand it any longer and began to sing along.  
  
By the time the concert was voice Bulma and everyone else's voices were shot. They could barely hear or speak, and yet their spirits had never been higher. They were headed so quickly towards the backstage entrance they almost charged into two large security guards.  
  
"Seems 17's found quite the bunch," said the bald guard to the other. "He's the only one that uses those things." He snatched up the backstage passes and opened the gate, not at all masking his lust for the three ladies. Krillin wanted to punch him hard in the gut, though settled for a sideways glare.  
  
"Hey there!" 17 called, waving from the back door of the stage. "Come you guys! Everyone back here's itching to see who I found!"  
  
"We're coming as fast as we can, 17!" Bulma shot back, relishing in the chuckle that escaped his lips. Maris seemed immune to jealousy on that account, and Bulma was glad for it. She could see herself falling for 17 more than Vegeta. Not that she didn't adore the reckless lead singer, but he just didn't seem like the type of guy that would be interested in her. Maybe she was wrong. "Like I could have any of them," she thought with a laugh as she and her friends passed through the doorway.  
  
********************************************************  
  
---Chapter 2!! Woo!! Hoo!! Yeah! I've gotten 2 chapters up already. I rock! Woo! And I hope you all liked it. I really, really, really do.  
  
REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (Reviews=More Chapters)  
  
Next time: Backstage…  
  
Note: I do not own rights to either of the Green Day songs I used in this chapter. The bands, of course, have full credit. The songs, by the way (if you didn't know), were "Android"—heehee—and "Minority", a very common song by Green Day.  
  
Thanks for reading! 


	3. The Aftermath

Last time:  
  
"We're coming as fast as we can, 17!" Bulma shot back, relishing in the chuckle that escaped his lips. Maris seemed immune to jealousy on that account, and Bulma was glad for it. She could see herself falling for 17 more than Vegeta. Not that she didn't adore the reckless lead singer, but he just didn't seem like the type of guy that would be interested in her. Maybe she was wrong. "Like I could have any of them," she thought with a laugh as she and her friends passed through the doorway.  
  
**********************************************  
  
Vegeta, the famed lead singer, stood immediately upon the group's entrance, and with a palpable air of confidence crossed the room, heading straight for them. He gave an obvious glance in Bulma's direction, then veered off sharply, and went towards a cooler chock full of ice and cans of soda. 18, the drummer and sister to the group's escort, scoffed brusquely at Vegeta's rudeness, though made no comment. It was more than obvious that his actions weren't uncommon.  
  
"I'm 18 Gero," she said, almost formally; monotone. She offered her hand to each person of the group, lingering just a split second longer on Krillin, the only guy. He nearly fainted on the spot, though held strong and forced back a furious blush. "Of course you already know this, but there's no reason not to be polite." She gave a weak, uncomfortable smile, as if it were unnatural for her, then added, with a certain degree of unmaskable malice, "Some people are born impolite, however."  
  
Vegeta made no acknowledgement of her comment what so ever, sipping away at his soda. He was more than used to it.  
  
"I'm Goku!" came the unmistakenable voice of the bassist. The tall spiky haired man from the stage came running forward and grabbed the closest person's hand, shaking it furiously. "Goku Son. You have no idea how boring these guys can be sometimes." It was more than clear that he was hyper, and a bit too honest with his words, though the group didn't seem to mind his statement. "Even 17—" He motioned to him, still behind the group. "—has his moments. It gets really dull around here after shows when we aren't on the road the same night. And since we're doing a few more shows here, we're not going anywhere for a few days." He paused for a split second. "So, who are you guys?"  
  
"I found them in our hotel lobby," 17 laughed, gently pushing through the group and taking a seat on a leather couch beside Vegeta. "They were just sort of standing around. I got to talking to them and thought, 'Hey! I'll bring them back!' This one—" He pointed to Maris. "—she's a real firecracker. I love her." He winked at Maris and she smiled back, not flinching in the least. Bulma found this oddly comforting, that Maris was dealing with the situation the same as she, acting as though these weren't the very people they'd all idolized for so long. Krillin and Chi-Chi were a little high-strung and jumpy, though they hid it well. "And in the back, the one with the aqua hair, that's Bulma Briefs!"  
  
Vegeta spit a good amount of soda onto the floor and jerked is head towards the group. Of course he knew who she was, everyone did, but there was also some deeper connection there. What was it? He knew he'd heard his mother mention her name several times before and not in regards to Capsule Corp. Finally, he noticed everyone was starring at him.  
  
"What?" he snapped, taking another sip of soda.  
  
"Sorry," 18 snapped back, and something told Bulma that their relationship was strong, even with all their fighting and ill words. "It must have been someone else who spit soda all over the place."  
  
"Must have been."  
  
"Anyway," 17 went on, as if nothing had stopped him. "I asked them to come back, and they said yes, obviously. That's Maris, Bulma, duh, Chi-Chi with the black hair, and Krillin. I think we should take them with us around the country."  
  
"Shut up," Vegeta said. "If we're not going to let you have that bulldog, we're not going to let you kidnap a bunch of high school students." He glanced over at the group. "Do you people talk? I want to see what's so great about you all."  
  
"Well don't you have a temper," Maris blurted out. Chi-Chi gasped. "You have a great singing voice and Kami you're gorgeous, but that attitude—How do you get girls with such a thing?"  
  
"That's simple," Goku laughed. "He doesn't want girls that don't only see him as a singer and a hunk."  
  
"Kakarot," Vegeta growled. "Never again are YOU to call me a 'hunk'." He turned back to Maris, his furrowed brow relaxing some. He liked her fire. "And you. You need to learn some respect. You're back here in our private rooms. I could very well have you thrown out."  
  
"That's never happened to me before," she commented. "Sounds interesting. Holy Kuso!" She suddenly ran across the room towards their big screen TV, but it was what was on the table before it that she was ogling over. "You guys have Yuriko's Revenge!" she all but screamed, not daring to touch the object on the table. "I've been looking all over Japan for this game! None of the video stores anywhere have it. It's been sold out for months!"  
  
"Vegeta has a deal with the company that made the game," 17 said a-matter-of-factly. "We put up their banners, and they give us games for free. That one came like a week before it was on store shelves."  
  
"I beat Yuriko's Quest is like two days on expert, and I got the Bonus Level and beat that too. I got detention for a week for skipping school for two days, but it was worth it."  
  
"But you're life is cut in half on expert!" Vegeta shouted, as if Maris had done something to intentionally hurt him. "And everyone else has full life. It's impossible."  
  
"Maybe for you," she countered smugly. "I happen to be a wizard on those kind of games. I beat The Yearling in like three days. Piece of cake."  
  
"You're lying," he snapped. She only laughed, then pointed to the game system and said, "Alright. You want to see how badly I'm lying? I'll show you. Let me play Yuriko's Revenge, and you'll see how good I am. I bet you I could beat it in two to three days."  
  
"You're on onna," he laughed, reaching out his hand to seal the bet. "She's staying," he said to 17, who shrugged and turned to the rest of the group. "What's the bet?"  
  
"What do you want if you win?"  
  
"You have to be in a commercial for some music store. They asked me and I said no, and then my crack head manager told me I had to find someone to replace me. I pick you."  
  
"Fine."  
  
"And if you win?"  
  
She turned and looked at Bulma, who flinched almost instinctively. What was she up to?  
  
"You have to go on a date—"  
  
"With you?" He eyed her up and down. "Ok."  
  
"No. With Bulma."  
  
Bulma's face drained of all color. She couldn't find the words, or even enough energy to shake her head. What the hell was she thinking? Who said she wanted to go on a date with him? Sure, he was beyond sexy, and Yeah, she absolutely worshipped him from the moment she saw his picture on a CD cover, but a date? How the hell would she pull that off!  
  
She was so caught up in her thoughts that she barely heard Vegeta say, "Whatever," then he continued discussing the game. By the time she found her voice, they were already on the couch in front of the TV, Maris' focus completely on the screen, her thumbs already ramming away at the buttons. Her heart sank and she felt a horrible pain in her stomach. He hadn't even given her a second glance and his acceptance, his "whatever", it stung hard. And she was distastefully jealous about Maris. She hated being jealous.  
  
"The rest of you should stay too," 17 piped in, coming over to the group that was down to three. "You can watch the shows from back here if you like. I promise I won't bring anyone else back."  
  
"We'd love to," Chi-Chi and Krillin said at once.  
  
"Bulma?"  
  
"I-I can't. Sorry. I promised my dad I'd work desk tomorrow night when I got home. I really want to, but—"  
  
"I understand," 17 sighed.  
  
"You guys should stay though," she said to Chi-Chi and Krillin. "If Maris doesn't leave in time for you to get home by Sunday night, then I'll send a chopper to come get you."  
  
"I don't want to fly," Chi-Chi sighed, though a smile forced it's way to her face almost instantly. "But what the hell. I don't care. Send a damn elephant. I'll ride that back to Satan City."  
  
"Krill?"  
  
"I'm fine. But I wish you'd just call your dad and tell him you want to stay, I mean, wouldn't he be hap—"  
  
Bulma suddenly snatched up Krillin's arm and pulled him away from Chi-Chi and 17, and whispered furiously, "Shut up Krillin. I don't want to stay, ok? I know I could get out of doing desk. I know my dad would love to see me happy over this, but I just don't want to be here. I don't understand it, ok? I love the band, I really do. I'm ready to die right here on the spot, but Vegeta—"  
  
"Are you jealous that he's paying more attention to Maris than you? Bulma, you're going on a date with him if she wins that stupid bet. So what's wrong?"  
  
She hesitated for a moment, then said, "That's not it. It's his attitude. He's a great singer and all, but he's just not a good person. I never expected this from someone who had such a magnificent voice."  
  
"Please stay, B. It wouldn't be the same without you." He took her hand suddenly and pulled he in for a one-armed hug. 18 took notice of this from across the room, then continued to watch Maris on the big screen. "Look, I came to the concert and I was going to bow out because of Maron. She broke up with me over it and I still came. I think you can deal with Vegeta for a few nights. Besides, he might soften up once he gets to know you. Maybe he's one of those people who have a hard time talking with new people."  
  
"Fine," she sighed, shrugging loose from his embrace. "I'm staying," she said to Chi-Chi and 17. "Just need to call my dad." She reached into her pocket and pulled out her cellular phone, punching in the numbers rapidly. "Hey dad. I'm doing great. Yeah, the concert was amazing, thank you so much. We're actually backstage with the band. I know, I can't believe it either. I was just wondering though if I could stay 'til Sunday night, I promise I'll be back in time for school Monday. Why? 'Cause the band asked us to stay with them. They said they get bored and need other company besides themselves and—Thank you daddy. I love you. Oh, can could you call Chi-Chi and Krillin's parents and tell them they're staying? Have them call my cell if they need to talk with them. Thanks. Bye."  
  
"He doesn't mind you staying with a bunch of guys?" 18 scoffed across the room. "And my sister?"  
  
"Nah. Krillin stays over all the time. He trusts me."  
  
"That's great. My father used to be so over protective. He hardly let me and 18 start this band, let alone travel all over the country."  
  
"Well what changed?"  
  
"He died," he said with a shrug.  
  
"I'm so sorry."  
  
"No, it's fine. Really. He wasn't the sort of man you'd call…nice." He laughed. "So, anyway, we're only touring for a few more weeks, then we get like two months vacation time 'til we have to start recording our new CD. We were thinking about visiting Satan City, since that's where we all grew up. You think—"  
  
"I think that if you don't come to Capsule Corp. and visit then I'll never speak with you again."  
  
"Good," he laughed. "And you'll have all your friends with you, right?"  
  
"Yes," Chi-Chi chimed in. "But it's not like we're not always there anyway."  
  
"Hey, bums!" came a deep, angry voice from the doorway. "Get out of here. Go back to that damn hotel."  
  
"Who's that?" Bulma mumbled out of the corner of her mouth.  
  
"Cleaning crew. They're monsters. They feel the need to clean this back room after the shows, but it's only so they can use it."  
  
"Come on. Go!"  
  
"Can it!" Vegeta yelled. "We're busy!"  
  
A large greasy looking man came pounding into the room, and straight for Maris and Vegeta. Maris quickly saved her game, just before the brute pulled the plug.  
  
"Jerk," she muttered.  
  
"Hurry up," Vegeta said, yanking the game system up, and heading for the door. "We're going to my hotel room." They ran out the door before the cleaning "boss" could get another word out to them.  
  
"You three go ahead," 17 said, scribbling down his room number, and those of 18 and Goku. "Just stay in your room for like an hour then come to us."  
  
**************************************************************  
  
Bulma, Chi-Chi, and Krillin all collapsed on the same bed once inside their hotel room. Neither said anything for a long moment, their breathing heavy from jogging back. They were still in awe and positively reeling from the past few hours. No one wanted to speak, lest it all turn out to be a dream.  
  
Finally Chi-Chi spoke up, unable to be quiet any longer.  
  
"Good Kami!" she cried. "I was in the same room as Goku Son. He touched me! I can die! I can actually die!"  
  
"No, you can't," Bulma said, almost angrily. "We're going to their rooms in an hour. We're spending an entire weekend with Green Dragon!" She couldn't help her excitement. Sure she was nervous beyond reason about Vegeta, but this was a chance of a lifetime. There was no way she wasn't going to be excited. "Where are our cameras? We need our cameras! I am not going to school on Monday without pictures of this weekend!"  
  
"I think I'm in love," Krillin mumbled, obviously thinking of 18.  
  
"You were already in love with her before the concert."  
  
"I know. But now, I think I really am. Kami she's gorgeous."  
  
"You know," Chi-Chi said, grabbing her make-up bag and a change of clothes; she was going to glam herself up some more before going to the hotel rooms. "I never thought something like this could happen to us. I mean, small city high school kids going to a concert and meeting their favorite band! When does that happen? And when are the bands actually this great? Not just some poster-friendly jerks. Have you thought about all this? Really let it sink in? In less than an hour we are all going to be in the hotel rooms of Green Dragon!"  
  
"You know, Chi," Bulma laughed, "I think we have thought about it. We're never going to forget this weekend. And I have to confess something: I never thought 17 would be such a great guy in person. He has a great voice, and body, and everything—but he's hilarious too. And so nice, and friendly. He was always blurred out to Vegeta before."  
  
"You make them sound like Supreme Beings." Chi-Chi let out a howling laugh, then ducked into the bathroom, calling, "But they are, aren't they! Supremely gorgeous!"  
  
"I really like that Maris," Krillin said suddenly, kicking off his sneakers. He'd felt torn ever since he'd met her back in the mall. In the back of his mind he'd never forgotten her, only became distracted by Maron, and Maris was pushed further and further away. He was guilty for months when he thought more of Maris than Maron. And now it was 18 and Maris. He finally gets to meet 18, the woman of his deepest desires, and Maris is there too? What kind of a sick love tornado was Kami dropping him into?  
  
"Yeah, me too," Bulma said, not sensing Krillin's discomfort in the least. "I can see us bringing her in. 17 was right, she is a real firecracker."  
  
"Kami, we're talking about Green Dragon like they were old friends. I've been reeling for over 12 hours and I'm still not done. I don't care if I never sleep again."  
  
"I'm glad they can't hear us like this. And by the way, great job being calm backstage. I never thought you or Chi-Chi could keep your cool in front of celebrities."  
  
"Hard work," he laughed. "But, you're like a celebrity. I guess we had training."  
  
"I am not a celebrity. I'm barely somebody at school."  
  
"Bulma. Who doesn't know that name? Satan City adores you. All over Japan there's talk of Capsule Corp., Dr. Briefs, and his amazing daughter, Bulma, who's not only following in his footsteps, but making her own name for herself in the science world. Face it B, you're as famous as they come."  
  
"Then why don't I feel famous? Where's the paperotsy? And the Tabloid slander? And the rumors that I'm dating some Movie Star?"  
  
"You want all that?"  
  
"No. I'm saying that I don't have that, and that's what famous people have."  
  
"That's not true. There are plenty of famous people who we hardly hear about. And we hear about you and your father all the time."  
  
"Correction, you hear about my father all the time. I'm barely mentioned. I'm a celebrity's daughter. That's all."  
  
"Green Dragon knew your name."  
  
"My name, not me."  
  
"And who do you know that's famous? Really know?"  
  
"I—" She stopped there.  
  
"Exactly."  
  
**********************************************************  
  
Bulma starred at the miniscule black strapped dress in utter terror. It wouldn't cover past her knees, and the front would definitely reveal more than she did in a bathing suit. She shook her head furiously and swatted at the tiny piece of black fabric.  
  
"I can't believe you actually think I'd wear something like that, Chi," she spat, brushing her hair into a loose ponytail. "I'm sorry, but I don't want some cheap moves to get a guy to notice me."  
  
"Are you saying I'm cheap!" Chi-Chi was wearing a dress very similar to the one she'd wanted Bulma to wear, though hers was scarlet and had a slit up the side.  
  
"No," Bulma sighed. Incoming headache. "I'm saying that I think that black dress is just a lure. You know why I stayed with Yamcha so long? 'Cause it was safe with him. I didn't need to go around looking for a guy and getting disappointed, 'cause I had one. I'm not very good at talking to guys and getting them interested in me. And I'm definitely not good at being sexy."  
  
"What are you talking about?" Krillin piped in. He'd been channel surfing while waiting for Chi-Chi to finish getting ready, and simply couldn't stay out any longer. "You and Chi are the sexiest girls I know. You just hide it, B, that's all."  
  
"Really?" Chi-Chi smiled. "Well I never thought I'd hear my best friend call me sexy and keep a straight face."  
  
"I'm not kidding and I'm not shy about it with you two. I've known you too long to be shy when I tell you the truth."  
  
"Do you think B should wear the dress?"  
  
"No." Bulma gave him a thankful smile. "If she won't be comfortable then she shouldn't wear it. Besides, I agree with her about the guy thing. She thinks that if a guy is attracted to her it'll only be because she's wearing something like that, not because of who she is."  
  
"Well I don't want guys to come to me 'cause of clothes like this, either. I like dressing up sometimes."  
  
"Yeah, but who are you dressing up for tonight? At the concert you wore jeans and a tee-shirt. Just think for a minute; would Goku Son want a girl that changes her clothes every few hours? I don't think he's so complex."  
  
"Krillin," she laughed. "You act like any of us have a shot with those guys. I'm just trying to enjoy my time with them, but I guess you're right. This dress is a little tight, and I can't move around very good. Maybe the jeans are more practical."  
  
"Exactly," Bulma sighed. She pulled on her old tennis shoes and laced them up. "That's how I dress, practically. I don't dress for other people."  
  
Chi-Chi dodged back into the bathroom to change back into her previous outfit. Just as that door shut, there was a knock at the door to the hallway. Bulma picked herself up off her bed and peered through the peephole.  
  
"17!" she called, her smile broadening as he looked at her, though he could not see her. "I thought we were coming to you guys." Her heart was racing. How long could they all keep up their calm façades? Of course Green Dragon were regular, normal people, but how could anyone not be nervous around the famous?  
  
"Well it's been over an hour and I'm sick of listening to Vegeta and Maris bicker on that game. He's so steamed that she's doing so well. Can I come in?"  
  
"No!" she laughed, then swung open the door and stepped aside.  
  
"Where's—" He paused for the smallest fraction of a second. "—Chi-Chi?"  
  
Bulma nodded her head towards the bathroom. 17 only laughed. He could tell from the first moment he met Chi-Chi that she was that type of girl. He wondered why he hadn't remembered her name for a moment; she was all Goku had been talking about for the past hour.  
  
"So, 17," Krillin said, sitting up and tossing the remote behind him on the bed. "When exactly did you all move out of Satan City?"  
  
"About two years ago," he replied. He took a seat at the small desk he'd been standing beside.  
  
"But wouldn't we have noticed you all in school? Orange Star is huge. All the kids from Satan City go there, and a whole bunch from the country too," Bulma said, thinking that she would never have missed so many beautiful guys.  
  
"Nah. Vegeta was always too involved in his music to bother with school. He started putting the band together and never went to a single class at the High School; his mom tutors him now…And me, 18, and Goku were almost always home schooled. Goku by his grandfather, and me and 18 by our father, and then Vegeta's mother after he died…Vegeta's the only one that went to regular school passed 3rd grade. He dropped out right before High School."  
  
"What schools did he attend?" she asked, trying her hardest not to sound too interested in him when 17 was sitting right there.  
  
"Well his family lived in the heart of the city, so he went to Middle School somewhere around there. We all met in the 1st grade at Chibi Star—" Bulma's eyebrows furrowed. She'd gone to Chibi Star as well. Why hadn't she remembered those four? Surely they'd seen each other, and they must have lived close. She decided not to ask just now. "—then me, 18, and Goku we pulled after 3rd…Blah, blah, blah…It's not a very interesting story. Hey! Chi-Chi. Are you all ready now? I think 18's fallen asleep waiting."  
  
"That's not funny," Chi-Chi snapped playfully, fighting to keep her frown. She too was feeling her heart beating faster than normal, and having trouble keeping her emotions in step.  
  
Green Dragon's hotel room was several stories above Bulma, Chi-Chi, and Krillin's room. They took a special elevator that opened right up into the band's suite, of which 17 had a key. He explained when the doors opened that his room was straight forward and next to 18's, Goku's room was to the left, and Vegeta's to the right. The living room was where the elevator opened up to, and the kitchen and bathroom were to the left as well. He added that Goku always "needed" the room closest to the kitchen.  
  
"18! Goku! Vegeta!" 17 called, finding no answer. "Hmm. Hey, Chi-Chi, go through that door into the kitchen and see if Goku's in there. I'll check his room." As he headed to the left he called over his shoulder, "Krillin my man, you go straight and find 18, and Bulma, you find Vegeta and Maris. I'll try to get them off that game soon."  
  
They all departed in their separate directions, each wondering how the other was handling being in the hotel room of Green Dragon. Bulma wasted no time in venturing towards Vegeta and Maris. She did not like the idea of leaving them alone in the least.  
  
Quietly she pushed open Vegeta's bedroom door, marveling first at its elegant appearance, and then at the size of the TV Maris was playing on. She sat on the edge of the couch, hammering away at the buttons of the controller, while Vegeta was laid back and glaring at the screen. Their backs were to her, though turned slightly so she could see the sides of their faces.  
  
"Kuso!" Maris swore, startling Bulma. She decided to watch them for a moment and see what happened. "How do I use the Ice Sword? My fight button isn't working!"  
  
"Oh," Vegeta laughed. "So I see you haven't read up on your oh-so-favorite game."  
  
"I'm not a dork, Vegeta. I play. I'm good, great actually, but I don't 'read up' on games. I consider that cheating, and I'm definitely not a cheater." She'd since paused the game and was turned facing Vegeta, her face completely turned from Bulma now.  
  
"It's not cheating, simpleton."  
  
"Tell me how to use the Ice Sword. Why won't it work with the fight button?"  
  
"We're in a bet here Miss Priss. I tell you nothing."  
  
"I'll do that damn commercial for you, AND you can have something else for if I lose, though I won't."  
  
"Fine."  
  
"What do you want then?"  
  
"Doesn't matter. You have to use the silver key to unlock that black box you found a few levels back. Whatever's in that box will make the sword work. Happy?" he grunted.  
  
"Very."  
  
Instantly she un-paused the game and again her fingers were ramming away at lightning speed. Bulma was about to voice her presence, when a loud hollow escaped Maris' lips.  
  
"Holy Kami!" she cried, falling back into the couch cushions. Apparently she'd just beaten a level boss. "I couldn't have beaten her without that sword. I owe you Vegeta. Thanks so much!" And then suddenly she reached over, grabbed Vegeta's face, and pulled his head towards her for a quick kiss of gratitude, only when she pulled back a second later, Vegeta's hands were on the back of her head, holding her to him.  
  
They fell into each other and sunk down in the couch, out of Bulma's view. She took a deep breath and closed the door, promising herself that she wasn't going to hate Maris out of jealousy.  
  
"Stupid gaming bitch," she muttered, not being about to help herself. "How can you just kiss a member of Green Dragon!"  
  
"Who kissed?" came 17's voice from across the room as he dragged Goku from the kitchen, a turkey leg clutched in his hand. Bulma looked at the floor. "Oh…" He glanced at the door Bulma had just exited. "VEGETAAAAA!!!!"  
  
********************************************************************  
  
---Chapter 3!! Woo! There you are! Hey, things are finally starting to heat up; too bad it's not with Bulma though. Damn Vegeta and his Vegeta-ness. Oh well, I promised a B/V, and that's what you'll get. Don't you people worry; I'm just getting warmed up. And yeah, I know, Maris seems a little two-faced, and slutty, but really she's not. It was an innocent kiss, or of excitement, and she didn't mean to hurt Bulma, she really likes her and the others. She's a good person, just gets caught in bad situations. I promise you'll like her in the end :P  
  
REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (Reviews=More Chapters)  
  
Next time: Vegeta and ??? get into a vicious brawl and things get really ugly. 


	4. Karaoke Anyone?

Last time:  
  
"Stupid gaming bitch," she muttered, not being about to help herself. "How can you just kiss a member of Green Dragon!"  
  
"Who kissed?" came 17's voice from across the room as he dragged Goku from the kitchen, a turkey leg clutched in his hand. Bulma looked at the floor. "Oh…" He glanced at the door Bulma had just exited. "VEGETAAAAA!!!!"  
  
*********************************************  
  
17 ran into Vegeta's room and without a moment's hesitation had him on the floor, his fists flying angrily. Bulma watched in horror from the doorway, and poor Maris sat stock-still on the couch. Chi-Chi, Goku, Krillin, and 18 stood just behind Bulma.  
  
"What the fuck's the big idea!" Vegeta yelled, pushing 17 over. He stood immediately and glanced at those in the doorway. "Do I come crashing into your room and tackle you for no reason?" He brought his hand up to his mouth and wiped away a trickle of blood. "You chipped my fucking tooth, moron."  
  
"You really are that stupid to believe you're innocent, aren't you?" 17 countered.  
  
"And what the hell do you think I did now? I haven't seen any ridiculous slander in weeks!"  
  
"What did you do now?" 17 laughed. "How about you went against your word? How about you were going to just use Maris here and then throw her aside like all the other girls? How about you're a disgrace to human beings? How about you couldn't keep a steady girlfriend if your life depended on it?" His fists shook at his sides. "One day you're going to fall in love and whoever that poor girl may be will see you for who you truly are and you'll die alone, and somehow you won't have any clue as to how it happened because you're too self involved to think about another person's feelings for one damn second!"  
  
"You think I was going to use her?" Vegeta pointed to Maris who glared angrily at him. She believed 17's words. Vegeta was the type of guy to do all those things. "What proof do you have? Besides, she kissed me first. I'm not at fault."  
  
"For once," 18 spat, entering the room.  
  
"So what were your intensions for her then Vegeta? What were you going to do? Date her? Ha! You haven't had a girlfriend since the 7th grade, and she saw right through you."  
  
"Why do I need intensions for making out with someone? None of you do. The press barely touches you."  
  
"Because," 18 said. "You're the only one whose liaisons attract negative press. That last girl you banged, she sued us for $5 Million, and all you could say was she was a good screw. You need to clean up that disgusting habit, or we'll toss you."  
  
"Then Green Dragon is dead, isn't it? You're nothing without a lead singer, and no one is as famous as me. You're finished without me!" He pushed past 17 and 18, then those at the door. They heard the elevator doors close and no one spoke for a moment.  
  
"He'll be back," Goku reassured Chi-Chi, who looked beside herself with grief over the appeared break-up of her favorite band. "He does this once a month or so, and we threaten to kick him out and then he comes back. If these fights really meant the end, we probably wouldn't even have started a band."  
  
"He has no respect for anyone else's feelings but his own. He's a child in an angry adult's body."  
  
"Why is he like that?" Maris asked, speaking for the first time since they all entered the room.  
  
"Hiss father died when he was young. He really looked up to him and has never forgiven his mother for surviving the car wreck when his father did not. She's beyond grief when it comes to her only son. He won't even acknowledge her half the time."  
  
"Now I remember," Bulma nearly gasped, the only remaining person in the doorway.  
  
"Remember what?"  
  
"We've all met before. I knew Vegeta when I was in grade school. In the fourth grade a boy in my class lost his father in a car accident and his mother survived, but she was badly injured. From then on the boy was harsh-spoken and didn't follow the rules. I remember going to his house a few times before then. I think we were playmates or something. He was quiet…After that I stopped talking to him, and I don't think he cared. I never forgot that kid, but for some reason I could never remember his name…I vaguely remember the rest of you, 'cause you all hung closely around him until you left after 3rd grade."  
  
"Blue Eyes," 18 sighed with a small laugh. "We never remembered your name so we called you Blue Eyes. You were the closest with Vegeta. Wow, that was so long ago. I barely remember it."  
  
"So where do you think Vegeta went?" Maris piped in, a little more than embarrassed at the previous situation.  
  
"The first bar he sees. Why?"  
  
"I want to apologize to him for getting him into this mess. It wasn't my intention to get him in trouble. It wasn't even a real kiss, I was just happy to beat a boss on the game…"  
  
"She's right," Bulma sighed, no longer able to be angry with her. "I saw the whole thing. It was impulsive. Vegeta didn't know what she meant by it. I'll go with you Maris."  
  
"Me too," came Chi-Chi voice. Of course she wanted to stay and talk more with Goku and the rest of the band, but Bulma was her best friend and she'd be damned if she didn't help her out.  
  
"And me," said Krillin, coming up beside her.  
  
"We should all go then," 17 said. "He'll be intimidated by you and think we sent you or something. Let's just go and pretend we're there to hang out. Then Maris can go apologize once he's sure we're not there for him."  
  
"How do you guys stay together if you're so volatile?" Bulma asked, the last to enter the elevator.  
  
"Vegeta needs to release his bottled up anger on someone. He chooses us 'cause he knows we know him for who he is and won't take it to heart. If he explodes in public, which has happened once or twice, then he runs the risk of ending up on every front page in Japan." 17 sighed and leaned his head back.  
  
"What's his deal? Of course the dad thing, but it's been like eight years. Shouldn't he be over it by now?"  
  
"He's complex," 17 laughed. "There isn't an ounce of Vegeta that we fully understand. He's our friend and we need him in the band."  
  
"It's just sad, you know? I never would have seen it in him on stage."  
  
"Yeah, I know…"  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
Maris had long since gone to talk with Vegeta. She explained her actions as best as she could and somehow managed to convince him to join the group in their booth. He didn't say a word, but it was clear to everyone that he wasn't happy with himself for his handling of the situation.  
  
"Hey!" Bulma nearly shouted, startling her party. The rest of the bar's occupants, older couples and bikers, didn't bat an eyelash at the teens. "Is that a karaoke machine?"  
  
"Kami no," Krillin grumbled, grabbing Bulma's wrist. "Why?" he sighed. "Everytime?" It wasn't that she couldn't sing, on the contrary she had an amazing voice, but her choice in karaoke songs was never good and usually ended with her being booed off the mini stage.  
  
Bulma only rolled her eyes at him as she scooted out of the booth. She searched the list of song programmed into the machine until she found one she felt like singing.  
  
"I thought she was the conservative type," 18 said, eyeing the blued-haired heiress.  
  
"She is," Krillin groaned. "But she's obsessed with karaoke. We try to avoid places that have machines."  
  
"Come on baldy," Vegeta laughed, speaking in front of the group for the first time since Maris brought him over. "If she wants to embarrass herself, let her. More fun for us."  
  
Just then the speakers clicked on and the music began to pound out; the words would appear shortly on the screen Bulma stood before. She took a deep breath before belting out the lyrics, surprising all but Chi-Chi and Krillin with her amazingly wonderful voice. So she was beautiful and she could sing, Vegeta thought. Interesting…..  
  
"Baby, I knew at once that you were meant for me. Deep in my soul I know that I'm your destiny," she sang, her body swaying to the music, unconfined with a cordless microphone. "Though you're unsure, why fight the tide? Don't think so much, let your heart deeecide!"  
  
She hopped off the tiny stage and leaned against the bar, immediately catching the attention of the drunken biker closest to her. She sang to him, somewhat convincingly.  
  
"Baby, I see your future and it's tied to mine. I look in your eyes and see you searching for a sign." Sudeenly she turned from the man and sang to her friends as she approached their table. "But you'll never fall, till you let go, don't be so scared of what you don't know!"  
  
She let the chorus carry on without her as she danced dangerously close to Vegeta, who eyed her with suspicion and malice. She was invading his space. "…And when you're true to your heart you know it's gonna lead you straight to me!  
  
"Oooh, someone you know is on your side can set you free. I can do that for you if you believe in me. Why second-guess what feels so right? Just trust your heart and you'll see the light!"  
  
Again she swayed to the chorus, saving her voice for the other words.  
  
"Boy, my heart is driving me to where you are," she sang confidently. And then she did the most unsuspecting and intrepid thing imaginable: she grabbed Vegeta's wrists and yanked him to his feet as she continued to sing to him. "Well, you can take both hands off the wheel and still get far." Vegeta didn't move, allowing Bulma to run her hands over his chest. In the back of her mind, even she was surprised by her boldness. But at the moment she didn't care; she was having way too much fun. "Be swept away. Enjoy the ride. You won't get lost with your heart—" She pointed at his heart. "—to guide you!  
  
"True to your heart, you must be true to your heart. That's when the heavens will part and baby, shower you with my love. Open your eyes. Your heart can tell you no lies, and when you're true to your heart I know it's gonna lead you straight to me!"  
  
She turned abruptly from Vegeta, who simply sat back down as if nothing happened, and returned to her place on stage, her words still directed at her belovéd lead singer.  
  
"When things are getting crazy and you don't know where to start, keep on believing, baby, just be true to your heart! When all the world around you, it seems to fall apart, keep on believing baby, just be true to your heart!…" She let her voice trail off and the words to the end of the song faded out. She set down the mic and walked nonchalantly back to the booth and took her seat.  
  
Everyone starred at her in disbelief, save Vegeta, who glared daggers at her. She only smiled at him, then shrugged to the rest of the group.  
  
"Hmm?" she asked innocently, taking a sip of her soda.  
  
"You're insane, you know that?" 17 finally laughed, barely able to keep his soda from shooting from his nostrils. "What a character. You're as shy as a little girl, yet you can belt your voice out like Madonna."  
  
"Madonna!" she cried, slapping her hands on the table. "Don't flatter me. I'm moderate at best."  
  
"Actually," 18 said, "you have a great voice. Have you ever considered putting it to use?"  
  
"Like what you all do?"  
  
She nodded.  
  
"Hell no. I'd be too nervous. Karaoke satisfies me enough. I haven't sung on a machine in almost a year. Krill and Chi usually scout out the clubs and bars before we go in. They hate it."  
  
"Only 'cause you pick such wretched songs," Chi-Chi said defensively.  
  
"Well that's the point," Bulma sighed, rolling her eyes. "Karaoke is about getting up in front of people and having fun singing horrible songs, though I think the one I picked tonight was good."  
  
"Woman," Vegeta said suddenly. Everyone turned to look at him; Bulma glared. What did he just call her? "If you EVER touch me again I'll have your neck."  
  
"What's the matter? Can't have a little fun? Kami knows you could use it," she spat back, surprised again by her rash behavior. Since when was she so bold? And with her favorite band and band member? Something was in the air. "Hey Maris, how are you doing on that game?"  
  
"I'm half way to beating it," she said proudly, overjoyed that Bulma was civil with her and not angry still about the kissing incident.  
  
"Looks like I'll have another chance to embarrass you in public Vegeta," she laughed, sucking in the last bit on her soda, making that loud slurping noise.  
  
"I don't get embarrassed, woman," he retorted, crossing his arms.  
  
"Stop flirting you two," Goku stepped in. "Sheesh."  
  
"We are NOT flirting!" they yelled in unison, then turned away from each other. The others only laughed and continued their previous conversation. It was blatantly clear that they were attracted to one another.  
  
***************************************************************  
  
"Well we had a great time," 17 yawned, glancing at his watch. "But it's 5:00, and we all need to be up and at the stadium by nine."  
  
"That doesn't give you guys a lot of time to sleep," Chi-Chi said. She needed at least eight hours, if not more.  
  
"Yeah, well, rehearsals, blah, blah, blah. It's not so bad. You guys are coming to the next show, right?"  
  
They all nodded, too tired to really answer.  
  
"Ok, well be backstage at, oh, I don't know—" He glanced back at Goku who held up eight fingers. "—Ok, eight it is. See you guys then."  
  
"Ok, good night!" they all called, waving as they went around the corner to the common elevator.  
  
"You're so irresponsible, Vegeta!" 18 snapped, catching the group's attention. They all crept back and listened from behind the wall. They knew what the argument was about, but the curiosity got the better of them, and they eavesdropped. "You know, SHE isn't backing down as she used to. The headlines are beginning to bother HER, and she's going to step out of the shadows soon and ruin you! Ruin us!"  
  
"I have her under control," Vegeta grunted. "I know how girls like her work."  
  
"You barely know her, Vegeta!" Goku stepped in. "You knew her, for what?, five minutes? And now she's permanently a part of all our lives because of your ignorance."  
  
"Oh, Kakarot, please don't tell me you're giving ME a lesson on ignorance?" He laughed cruelly. "Besides, it's all over and done with. If you just let me—"  
  
"No, Vegeta!" 18 hissed. "'The Boss' already said you can't simply do that."  
  
"And why not? 'Cause it'll be public knowledge? So what? I don't care, and neither should any of you. It's my life, not the world's. They have no right to judge me."  
  
"But your mistakes reflect us and if you go down, we go down."  
  
"You know, it only proves that I'm human."  
  
"No, it proves that you're a moron. What the hell was going through your thick skull? Nothing! You didn't weigh the consequences before you went ahead and fucked everything up so nicely!"  
  
"I was drunk," he sighed, exasperated. "Or high." Bulma peeked around for a split second, long enough to catch a glimpse of his characteristic smirk. "Or both…Besides, it's not like no one in the world has done it before. I'm not the first, and I sure as hell won't be the last, so get off my back about it."  
  
"We're only 'on your back' because it effects us ALL! She's been knocking down our door since day one! 'The Boss' was already fed up with you from the first time you opened your mouth. Do not give her anymore reasons to threaten dumping us, because she can, and would, and then we'd be screwed, 'cause if she doesn't want us, no one will!"  
  
Vegeta gave a long sigh of irritation. "Fine. I'll cooperate with your little game…Has SHE called lately or something? Is that what this is about? I thought she was dealt with money-wise."  
  
"She wants more and more each time. It's getting harder to shut her up."  
  
"What's her name again? I always forget," Vegeta laughed.  
  
"Sen," 17 growled. "Sen Miyahara. And she's a lot tougher than you imaged. She was already making a name for herself before you met her. Why, in the name of Kami, did you pick her! She's brutal."  
  
"The alcohol, or whatever, picked her. I remember meeting her, vaguely, and now she's like a nasty hangover. Did she have that stupid baby yet? She blubbered about it the night I met her. Stupid onna."  
  
"You know," 18 sighed, and Bulma imagined her throwing her hands in the air. "That's another issue, right there. But I'm too tired to go into that, and you know what I'm talking about. You need to clean yourself up or we're done for, you got it?"  
  
"I already said I'd cooperate to keep you guys at bay," he countered. They were all too tired and worn out to be the least bit civil. The group hiding around the corner all whispered that it must be the alcohol, too. "Now out with it. What am I to do to keep you from jumping down my throat? Or, more to the point, what will keep Sen what's-her-name out of my hair, for good?"  
  
"She'll never be gone, unless she agrees to 'The Boss's' terms. We need to do a lot of work to keep her away. But I think there's one way to keep her quiet and not feel completely defeated. She's a sucker for love."  
  
"Oh really? When I met her, she was a bitter, self-conscious windbag."  
  
"Shut up. She writes love novels, right? And she's alone and wants what any other woman wants."  
  
"If you think I'm even going NEAR her, you—"  
  
"No, that's not what I'm saying. She doesn't want to be around you anymore than you want to be around her. Besides, she lives in America."  
  
"She's Japanese. I thought she was a tourist or was following the band," Goku said.  
  
"I don't know her background," 18 huffed. "And it's not important. What's important is that Vegeta keep her calm and her mouth shut."  
  
"And what am I to do? You keep saying, 'Do something. Do something.' Well, tell me, Kami damn it!"  
  
"Well, it looks to me like that girl Maris is going to win your stupid bet." Vegeta growled at her, angry that she was right. He despised losing, especially at something he was supremely a master at. He'd gone on a rampage for a week when Green Dragon lost to Kamiwise at the music awards. "And when she does, you're going on a date with Bulma Briefs, right?" He nodded, still unsure of what she was getting at. "Well," but it was then that she chose to lower her voice, sealing their conversation off from the hidden group of high-schoolers.  
  
"Who's that Sen woman they were talking about?" Krillin asked, once they'd said their good-byes to Maris and were inside their hotel room.  
  
"Beats me," Chi-Chi yawned. "Probably some angry new-age-anti-Japanese-American-native-to-Japan, or something. I don't know. She doesn't seem to be looked highly upon, however."  
  
"And what do you think 18 wanted with you, Bulma?"  
  
"I don't know," Bulma moaned. "But something tells me it isn't to my advantage."  
  
**********************************************************************  
  
---Chapter 4!! Woo! Done! Done! Done! Yay! Finally my writer's block is dissipating. I'm free!!!!!!!! Anyways, how'd you like it? And what do you think this nasty Sen woman is up to? What reason would she have to want to hurt Green Dragon, and especially Vegeta? Hmm, I feel some angst creeping up! :P  
  
REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (Reviews=More Chapters)  
  
Next time: Bulma and the gang finish out their week with Green Dragon and head back to Satan City for their first day as Seniors.  
  
Note: I do not own the song True To Your Heart, I only borrowed the lyrics. I got them at www.azlyrics.com, and they were from a Stevie Wonder song, though the version I'm most familiar with is the one with 98 degrees (and no, I do NOT like them, ick!) from the soundtrack to the Disney movie Mulan (I love Disney movies :P). 


	5. High School and Peanut Butter Cups

Last time:  
  
"And what do you think 18 wanted with you, Bulma?"  
  
"I don't know," Bulma moaned. "But something tells me it isn't to my advantage."  
  
**********************************************************  
  
Bulma walked slowly through the aisles, scuffing the bottoms of her shoes on the floor as she went, her index finger touching each book as she passed. She'd gotten up early that morning and decided to go around town for a bit. Chi-Chi and Krillin were in a dead sleep, and she highly doubted that they'd want to get up that early anyway just to go perusing in some small town that happened to have a stadium and a few hotels. She'd considered Maris for a split second, though quickly shot that idea away. She barely knew the girl.  
  
So far Bulma had been to the local grocery store, where she'd befriended the chipper old woman who owned the place and bought a sac of oranges; a gift shop, run by a rude young woman with furious gray hair and cold blue eyes, buying only a postcard to send her father; and finally, the small bookstore she was now in. She, of course, loved to read, being a genius and all, and found any excuse to be alone and dive into a classic. Her father had built her a library a few years back because her collection was so large and ever increasing in size.  
  
She'd been in the bookstore for close to forty-five minutes now, and her arms were filled with random selections or books she'd heard about and wanted to buy. The shop was small, but carried everything from the very best classics, to new releases. The shop owner was a lonely old man that, when prompted by Bulma into mild conversation, mumbled something incoherent and shuffled into the backroom.  
  
"What do I want?" she hummed to herself. She suddenly realized she was in the "Romance" section and frowned. Those books never interested her much, probably because she didn't believe in love, or at least that she would ever find it. She was about to pass by the entire shelf, when a red paperback caught her eye. Plain, nothing flashy or profound. She pulled out the book and read the title aloud, "The Love of a Heartless Man." Surprisingly she found herself slightly intrigued, then gasped when she came to the author's name. "Sen Miyahara! Holy Kami!"  
  
"Please! No swearing!" the timid old man called.  
  
"Sorry!" She turned the book over in her hands a few times, debating whether or not to buy it. On the one hand, she despised Romance Novels, but on the other, maybe it would tell her more about this Sen woman. She couldn't deny that the conversation they overheard last night had been startling and confusing. Something had happened with Sen Miyahara, and Green Dragon was desperate to keep it out of the headlines.  
  
"Anything else?" the old man asked when Bulma brought her purchases to the checkout.  
  
"Yeah, give me a dozen of those cookies," she said, pointing to the chocolate chip cookies under a glass lid. "They look delicious."  
  
"Here you are ma'am, have a nice day."  
  
"You too. And tell your granddaughter that I was right," she said around a mouthful of cookie as she went to leave. "Her cookies were amazing." The storeowner only stuttered in his bafflement. He hadn't remembered telling her that. Bulma only smiled, thinking back on the conversation she overheard with the old man and his granddaughter. She assumed that her parents were gone and he was caring for her and struggling for money.  
  
Once out of the store, she tossed the bag of cookies and the half she had in her hand in the garbage. They tasted liked cement.  
  
************************************************************  
  
"Hey Maris," Bulma said upon entering the hotel room. "What're you all doing up so early? It's only 10:00."  
  
"We're not cats," Chi-Chi said, combing through her wet hair, and rummaging through her bag for her blow dryer.  
  
"Maris came and woke you up, didn't she?"  
  
"Yes," Maris laughed. "Hey, what'cha got there? Groceries?"  
  
"Sort of." She set down the large brown bag and began pulling out its contents. "Oranges. A postcard. Books. I went wandering around town for a bit."  
  
"Aww, really? You should have come and got me. I've already been shopping in Octagon Square. I just love Miss Aihara! I would have liked to see her again."  
  
"Oh, I know!" Bulma all but squealed. "She's so cute. And that picture—"  
  
"Of her son? Kami, tell me about it. I wouldn't mind bumping into him in a dark alley."  
  
"What the hell are you two babbling about?" Krillin yawned, still curled tightly into his blankets.  
  
"The woman who runs a little market in town. She's a riot. Hey, Bulma, next time you go, take me with you."  
  
"Sure thing, Maris. I would have if I knew you wanted to," she half-lied. "But what makes you think I'm going back? I didn't need to go in the first place."  
  
"Well, you bought a bunch of books. My guess is you went into the Eternal Dragon Book Shoppe and fell in love with their selections. You'll go back at least twice to pick up more books."  
  
"You know," Bulma laughed. "For someone who doesn't know me, you sure as hell know a lot about me."  
  
"Hey, I love books too. I've been to the Eternal Dragon twice. Got about two dozen books. I love reading."  
  
"Damn," Chi-Chi scoffed. "You two should have met years ago. Would have saved me and Krill the trouble of hearing you blab about your books all the time."  
  
"So, whose your favorite author?" Maris asked, ignoring Chi-Chi's negative attitude.  
  
"Sayoko Wakai, who else? She's absolutely brilliant."  
  
"Well, Arata Ando, for one. Wakai is too far-fetched with her views. Ando is much more practical."  
  
"Ando lives in a fortified tree-house in the middle of nowhere, waiting for an imaginary impeding attack. He's insane."  
  
"So what if he's a little nuts. Besides, that was after he wrote all his books. He's a brilliant man."  
  
"Well, what about Anzai Anzai? He was the most outspoken writer of his time."  
  
"I agree with that. I own all his books."  
  
"Really? Me too."  
  
"Really?" Chi-Chi chimed in. "Me too! I use them for firewood."  
  
"Shut up, Chi," Bulma hissed playfully, then went back to her conversation with Maris, completely missing her best friend's angry glare. Krillin saw it however, and knew exactly what was amiss. Chi-Chi was jealous of Maris.  
  
**************************************************************  
  
Vegeta paced around backstage, his nerves pressured to explosion, ears sore from the hours of yelling they'd endured. First their manager/agent Miss Jun Tsuruga, aka "The Boss", had screamed his ear off about his irresponsible behavior concerning all the women he'd wined and dined in the past few months, and then it was Sen, his ever-present hangover from hell, calling up and barking at Jun and then at him. He almost didn't want to go on with the show tonight.  
  
"One more time and that boy is done," he heard 'The Boss' snap at 18 as she walked her out the door. "I don't care who he is and how much his sniveling little fans love him. Once more, 18. Just once." She came in seconds later and threw an empty can of soda at him.  
  
"You're a moron, you know that?" she sighed. "What possessed you to go out with three sisters on three different nights? Did you think they wouldn't figure it out? They're mother had Jun on the phone for five hours. She could barely calm the woman down."  
  
"They were hot," he said matter-of-factly, as if that were justification enough. "Besides, they didn't protest when they came back to the hotel room. Damn bakas. When was that anyway?"  
  
"Two months ago."  
  
"Did you tell Jun what you plan on FORCING me to do?"  
  
"Yes, and she thinks it's a great idea. She's going to call up Sen about it and tell us what she thinks in the morning, but we think it's in the bag." She walked over to Vegeta finally, and pulled him into a hug. He hesitated for a moment, then wrapped his arms around her as well. "It wouldn't hurt to pace yourself, you know? This could be really good for you. Just don't screw it up. Jun said she's about ready to give up on us. If she does, we're screwed." She kissed his cheek quickly before releasing him. "I love you man."  
  
"I may just vomit," he scoffed, flopping down on the couch. "When are we on?"  
  
She glanced at her watch. "Seven minutes. I wonder where those kids are." She looked around, then smiled as Krillin entered the room, his hands behind his back. The others weren't with him, though she hardly seemed to notice. "What'cha got there?"  
  
"Only the greatest thing in the world," he said smoothly, then held out a rather large bag to 18. She arched an eyebrow at him, though took the bag and looked in.  
  
"Hell yes!" she yelled, startling Vegeta for a second. He grunted at them then left the room. Where WAS everyone else? "I am so addicted to peanut butter cups! They're my only vice."  
  
"Really? Mine too," he laughed. "It wasn't in your biography."  
  
"Nope. It's my big secret. Damn you for tempting me before a show." She ran to a trunk on the other side of the room labeled "18's Shit. Back off.", dropped the bag in, then ran back. "After the show me and you are gonna have a peanut butter cup eating contest. And don't underestimate me. I maybe small, but I'll cream you!"  
  
"You better stop," Krillin laughed, "or I just might fall in love with you."  
  
"Well," she laughed with him. "Maybe that's my evil plan." She patted him on the back once before heading for the door, not noticing the furious blush on his cheeks. "Well, come on. The show's about to start."  
  
***********************************************************  
  
"I don't want to leave!" Bulma whined, pulling on 17's arm. "Come on. Come with us. You don't need a band."  
  
"B," 17 sighed, already comfortable with calling her that. "We're touring for like three weeks, then coming back to Satan City. I already told you we'd visit you, didn't I?"  
  
"You did?" Vegeta huffed. "Well that's news to me. I didn't want to see that harpy more than I had to. I'm already roped into a preposterous date."  
  
"Shut up," Bulma snapped uncharacteristically. "You better not be such an ass on our lousy date."  
  
"Lousy? You're going on a date with Vegeta Ouji. Nothing about it will be lousy."  
  
"Uh huh," she laughed. "I bet. Well—" She glanced back at her car, then at her watch. "—we better hit the road. Damn school starts up tomorrow."  
  
"Well have a safe drive!" Goku called, pulling Chi-Chi and Maris into a bear hug. He found Bulma seconds later, nearly crushing the air out of her lungs. "And don't forget about us!"  
  
"That's not possible, Goku," Chi-Chi cooed, feeling a blush rise in her cheeks. They'd shared a kiss the day before. Afterward, once back in their hotel room, she'd announced she was never washing her face or mouth again. Until Krillin pointed out the fact of bad breath, which immediately sent her to the bathroom.  
  
"We'll see you guys in a few. I got your number, B. I'll call you when we get into town."  
  
"This is ridiculous," Vegeta mumbled, turning his back on the group and getting into their limo.  
  
"He'll be on his best behavior on your date," 18 assured. "Otherwise we'll kill him."  
  
It took close to another half an hour to finish their good-byes, but soon they were all packed into Bulma's car, Maris included. They waved and honked and finally made it out of the hotel parking lot, just in time for rush hour traffic.  
  
******************************************************************  
  
The famed group entered their senior year with the highest of hopes the following day, and a new addition to their team. Maris turned a few heads as she walked down the hall with Bulma Briefs, Chi-Chi Mau, and Krillin Roshi; it was widely known that they were such close friends that they didn't let anyone penetrate their group, even for a short time. She was Krillin's girlfriend in the rumor mill for the first half of the day—seeing as they knew he was no longer with Princess Bubble Gum Maron—until he cleared it up in between 5th and lunch, thus confusing the nosey students even more. Everyone seemed to wonder what Maris had that they all didn't.  
  
Bulma was quite possibly the biggest shock, however, her illuminating smile catching everyone off guard. Even the teachers whispered about her in passing. She seemed to be back to herself, and completely over Yamcha, who she'd passed several times in the hall without so much as a glance. He was old to her now. She didn't even know she'd passed him until Chi-Chi pointed him out one time, so happy was she to finally be back to her old self.  
  
By 7th period the news of their amazing weekend had filtered throughout the school, and for the rest of the day the group found no peace. They'd developed their pictures from the weekend and decided to have them printed up in the school paper to keep everyone off their backs. Chi-Chi, the co-editor since last year, promised an article to the staff, and promised not to say too much to her friends. She knew what they meant, and only planned to write about the concert, the backstage passes, and possibly Bulma's karaoke singing.  
  
"What a day," Bulma sighed, shoving unnecessary books in her locker. "At least—" But she was cut off as a strong hand fell on her shoulder.  
  
"Bulma," came Yamcha's voice. Inside she groaned. That's exactly who she'd been dreading. "Can we talk? I haven't seen you since the last day of Junior year."  
  
"And I haven't been happier," she remarked sharply, hitching on her backpack and slamming her locker shut. "Where do you get off approaching me, anyway? You had your chance, and I've moved on. I thought you were with what's-her-face anyway. Leave me alone."  
  
"I just wanted to apologize," he sighed. "We parted on such horrible terms, and we were such good friends before we dated. I want that back."  
  
"And I wanted to trust you, but that's out the window. Look, just step away and never talk to me again, ok? It'll save us a headache."  
  
"I can't though," he practically whined. "I still…I love you Bulma."  
  
"Save it Yamcha. I told you, we're through. Just go."  
  
"Can we just talk, civilly? Listen, I have to get home, but I want to talk. Can I call you sometime?"  
  
"Fine. But you better say the best things I've ever heard, otherwise you're in deep shit."  
  
"Fair enough."  
  
"What was that all about?" Chi-Chi asked, having just come around the corner. "What did Prince Valliant want?"  
  
"The impossible" she huffed, starring after him. "What an ape."  
  
"Your favorite," she laughed, tossing her raven black hair. "Vegeta's just the same."  
  
"No, Vegeta's ten times worse. Uh. I need to find a better type of guy."  
  
"What about 17?"  
  
"What about he's way out of my league?"  
  
"You never know."  
  
"Except that I do, and he is."  
  
"Hey guys." Maris approached with her arm slung around Krillin, who she'd obviously been having quite a funny conversation with for he was to tears with laughter.  
  
"Hey Mar'," Chi-Chi said, leaning against a row of lockers. She could see how the rumor of their dating had been started. They were so compatible. She decided to set them up on a blind date together that weekend, without their knowing, of course. "What's so funny? You almost have Krillin wetting himself."  
  
"Just a joke. Hey B, you look depressed. What's up?"  
  
"Yamcha just tried to talk to her."  
  
"That asshole," Krillin grunted. "Hasn't he caused enough trouble? You're not his girlfriend anymore. Don't tell me he begged for forgiveness."  
  
"Probably," she scoffed, rolling her eyes. "You would think that after my dad gave him a talking to he'd leave her alone. But no. He's back to his old games. What is it with guys like that?"  
  
"Don't look at me. I never liked Yamcha." He turned to Bulma, who'd been starring off and not really listening to their conversation. "You were never good enough for him, B."  
  
"Yeah," Chi-Chi agreed, then looked over at Maris as if she were confused, or seeing her for the first time. "Hey Mar', how come none of your friends have been around? Did you ditch them for us?" she laughed. Bulma and Krillin stiffened. They'd been avoiding that question all day.  
  
"I…My best friend, Tobei, he…he was my only friend," Maris said in a low voice. "He died in a car accident just before the end of last year…I haven't been able to make friends since."  
  
The group was silent for one long, awkward moment, and then Chi-Chi said, "Really?" as if no other thoughts were swimming through her mind.  
  
Maris looked up at her new friends, her eyes glistening, and squeaked out, "No," then burst into a fit of laughter, startling them.  
  
"You're sick, you know that?" Krillin grumbled, though couldn't hold back his own laughter.  
  
Bulma and Chi-Chi laughed easily along with them, until Maris finally changed the subject.  
  
"So," she sighed. "What d'you guys say we go to my house and watch a movie or something?"  
  
"I have a better idea," Bulma said. She pushed off her locker and made to leave, her friends following suit. "Let's do the movie, add popcorn, and come to my house." She glanced back at Maris. "I have a mini-theatre at my house, and I can order any movie imaginable. Click, and it's there."  
  
"Sounds like a plan," Maris said with a huge grin, snaking her arm around Bulma's and Chi-Chi's waists, being slightly shorter than them. "Why, in Kami's name, didn't we become friends sooner?"  
  
By the time they reached Capsule Corp., it was nearly 3:30 and Mrs. Briefs was so wound up that she baked two cakes and three dozen cupcakes, dripping with sugary frosting. She offered her treats to Bulma and her guests; the only one who declined was Chi-Chi, who always did. They were about to call up the movie list and choose something, when Bulma's father came into the room, holding out the phone to her. She gave him a strange look, then grabbed the phone, and covered the mouthpiece.  
  
"Who is it?" she asked, knowing that all those who would call her were sitting next to her.  
  
"Some boy. Didn't say a name," her father said, then left the room, his smiling reaching his ears. New friends and a new boyfriend? He was beyond elated.  
  
"Hello?"  
  
"Yeah," came a gruff voice at the other end. Who was it? She didn't recognize the voice at all.  
  
"Who is this?"  
  
"Who do you think, woman?"  
  
"Vegeta!" Chi-Chi, Krillin, and Maris all practically threw themselves towards Bulma, trying to hear through the earpiece at the same time as her. She swatted them away. "Why the hell are you calling me?"  
  
"Well, that's a first," he grunted. "Usually groupies go wild when they get a call from me."  
  
"Groupies? Green Dragon has groupies?"  
  
"No. But I do." She rolled her eyes, knowing that he was smirking. "Anyway, 18's making me call you 'cause we're driving through Satan City tomorrow and staying in some hotel over night before heading north."  
  
"And?"  
  
"I'm getting to that. Kami, woman. You're an enigma."  
  
"And you're a jackass. Out with it."  
  
"My stupid manager thinks I should go on our date tomorrow night for some insane reason. I know where the High School is, I'll pick you up after school."  
  
"What? I need to go home and change before we go out, Vegeta. And school ends at 3:00. What kind of date places are open at 3:00 in the afternoon?"  
  
"We're going outside the city," he sighed. "And I have a dress for you. We're taking the tour bus, so you can change on the way."  
  
"A dress?" She was completely dumbfounded. "How do you know I'll like it? And how the hell do you know my size?"  
  
"You're a 2," he said offhandedly. "I usually date 2s. And it doesn't matter if you like the dress. I like the dress and you're wearing it."  
  
"What! Excuse me, buddy! But I am NOT—" And then the phone went dead. "Asshole."  
  
"What was that all about?" Chi-Chi asked.  
  
"He says we're going on our date tomorrow night and he's picking me up at the school and has a dress for me and thinks I'm going to go along with it. Uh! Maris, you owe me big."  
  
"S-Sorry," she laughed, dodging the pillow Bulma through at her. "But hey, you might have fun."  
  
****************************************************************  
  
---Chapter 5!!! Yeah, yeah, I know it's shorter and less eventful than previous chapters, but so what. I'm the write, muhahaha! :P I do hope you all liked it though.  
  
REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (Reviews=More Chapters)  
  
Next time: Bulma completely forgets about her date with Vegeta by the end of the day and finds him roaming the halls of her High School searching for her. 


	6. The Yosanos

Last time:  
  
"He says we're going on our date tomorrow night and he's picking me up at the school and has a dress for me and thinks I'm going to go along with it. Uh! Maris, you owe me big."  
  
"S-Sorry," she laughed, dodging the pillow Bulma threw at her. "But hey, you might have fun."  
  
**********************************************  
  
Bulma started the next day with a massive chip on her shoulder. All the rest of the night before she'd been fuming over Vegeta's cockiness, only to be reminded that she had be "in love" with him for the past two years. In a fury of emotions, she tossed all her Green Dragon CDs in the trash, though retrieved them after her friends left. That morning she wasn't even paying attention as she threw her clothes on; jeans cut-off at the knees and a Green Dragon T-shirt, slipping on a pair of flip-flops absently as she went out the door.  
  
When she arrived at school she'd managed to cool herself down some and entered the building with a tired smile. Who cared if Vegeta was a prick, she only had to see him once more, though as she thought about it, she wondered why she HAD to. It was Maris' stupid bet, not hers. Oh well, she shrugged. It could have been worse.  
  
But, of course, just as that thought crossed her mind, Yamcha crossed her path and stopped in front of her, his eyes swollen. He'd been crying. She didn't care.  
  
"Bulma," he sighed, almost sounding genuine. She refused to meet his gaze. "Look at me."  
  
"Why are you pestering me?" It wasn't so much of a mean question as an honest one. She truly wanted to know why a guy who she'd dated since Middle School and cheated on her now wanted to reconcile. If he loved her so damn much he'd leave her alone.  
  
"I can't get you off my mind," he said, reaching out to take her hand. She jerked back and glared at him. "I don't know, B—" Her glare hardened. He was NOT allowed to call her that anymore. "—I just, I can't stop thinking that I made the worst mistake of my life breaking up with—"  
  
"Excuse me, Yamcha, but you didn't break up with me. I left you after you partied down one weekend. I cried for one day and then forgot about you. I don't need apologies or lame-ass justifications for what exactly happened. We're over and I'm happy." She finally looked at him, his eyes quivering. Good, she thought, he should cry. "And to tell you the truth, I was relieved when you slept with what's-her-face. I hadn't been happy with you since, oh, I don't know, the first six months of our relationship. After that you wore on me and I got bored." Truthfully, he'd been straying from her, not being open or romantic anymore, and she'd been crushed, though stuck with him out of need and acceptance. She was the most popular girl in school, but not because she dressed the best or was a bitch to everyone. On the contrary, she was nice to every person, lest they were mean to her, and everyone loved her for it; inside everyone wanted to be her.  
  
"I know," he sighed. "You're right. It's just hard, you know? Knowing that I blew it with the only girl I ever loved."  
  
"And you cheated on me out of this proclaimed love?"  
  
"I was scared! I didn't know what I was feeling and I fled."  
  
"And you just happened to end up in another girl's arms?"  
  
"I—"  
  
"It doesn't matter, Yamcha," she grumbled. If she didn't get out of this quick she'd be late for AP Physics. "You cheated, and we're over. I haven't thought about you all summer and now you're bombarding me. Just leave me alone and move on."  
  
"But I love you, B."  
  
"And I love not being late to class. Good-bye."  
  
**********************************************************  
  
"That guy is unbelievable," Maris snorted, as she plopped down beside Chi-Chi in the lunch booth, across from Bulma and Krillin.  
  
"Who?" Chi-Chi asked, sipping on her diet iced-tea. It was her usual lunch, though everyone always urged her to actually eat something.  
  
"That Yamcha guy that Bulma used to date." Bulma's eyes narrowed. What was he up to? "I was in the lunch line and all of a sudden he grabbed my arm and starting asking me all these questions about Bulma. Is she really happy? Does she talk about me? Has she found someone else? I didn't even know he knew I hung out with you guys." She shook all over then grabbed up her soda and opened it with a hiss. "Gave me the creeps the way he starred at me. I didn't say one word."  
  
"And you shouldn't have," Chi-Chi mumbled, her eyes drifting around the cafeteria to where the man in question sat on a bench against the far wall, his knees drawn up. He looked pathetic all alone. She almost smiled at the idea of him being miserable, though stopped herself. It was TOO sad to poke fun at.  
  
A few minutes later he walked by the table, sniffling, and dropped a crumpled ball of notebook paper in front of Bulma. She ignored any and all actions on his part and continued eating her macaroni and cheese, wondering how they got the cheese so orange and not even wanting to think of what the green specks were. When she didn't grab the obvious note, or even look at it, Chi-Chi picked it up and opened it.  
  
"I don't care what it says," Bulma said, poking at her food. She didn't want to admit it, but as her friend unwrinkled the note her stomach turned and she was no longer that hungry. Why, after an entire summer, was he coming to her now? He could have come to her at any time during those three months and had this settled before school started. Now they were the talk of the school and all eyes seemed to be on them, as they once were last year. She hated him for it.  
  
"You sure?" Chi-Chi asked, her voice unsteady. Bulma didn't notice.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"I think you should read it."  
  
"Why? What does that say that he hasn't said to me before? I'm not going to pity him or forgive him or even talk to him again. So what's in there that will change my mind about him?" Now the thought of food completely repulsed her and she shoved her tray away.  
  
"I think you should read it yourself. I…I don't want to say." Maris leaned over her shoulder, read for a moment, then gasped, covering her mouth with her hand. Her composure shifted in one swift instant and she tore the note loose for Chi-Chi's hands and shoved it at Bulma.  
  
"Read it."  
  
"No."  
  
"Read it."  
  
"NO."  
  
"Dear Bulma," Maris read, ignoring her angry glares and frustrated huffs. She'd thank her later for this. "I'm apologizing ahead of time for what I'm about to tell you, but it's all that I can think of to get you to talk civilly with me." She paused and glanced at Bulma, and didn't want to continue. The point of the letter would ruin all hate she was entitled to have for her ex. "Last year, after we broke up, I was confused but sort of relieved. I liked my new freedom, but hated being alone. I missed you a lot when summer came 'cause I remembered our pool parties." Another pause. "I went on a few dates, and it was then that it hit me—I loved you and always had. That was the horrible feeling in my gut, only made worse by the fact that I had completely lost you and it was all my fault. My parents tried to comprehend the situation and comfort me the best they could, but I really didn't tell them anything. That's what this note is about, my parents." Maris stopped there and set the paper in front of Bulma. Her blue eyes instinctively drifted to the last few sentences of his plea for reconciliation.  
  
When she saw those words she thought she'd misread them, and then her heart seemed to stop and she felt bile rise in her throat.  
  
"Oh Kami," she moaned, tears already welling in her eyes. "I think I'm gonna be sick." But before her friends could comment, she bolted out of her chair, over-turning it, and ran from the packed and gawking cafeteria.  
  
Mr. and Mrs. Yosano were dead.  
  
***********************************************************  
  
"Why didn't you call me?" Bulma asked, curling her fingers around Yamcha's clenched hands that sat in his lap. She'd run through the halls for a full ten minutes before she saw him in the courtyard and burst through the doors, shouting wildly to grab his attention. But he'd been starring at her since she'd run by the window then screeched to a halt on the linoleum floors. "You know I would have come to see you."  
  
"I didn't want you to feel like you had to pity me," he said with a shrug. "But then I saw you yesterday after not seeing you all summer, and I just couldn't handle it. I had to talk to you…This was only a last resort."  
  
"Yamcha?"  
  
He looked at her, though averted his eyes. He was ashamed for having "conned" her into speaking with him. But she didn't care about that, and didn't think she ever would; he needed to talk with her and so that's what she would give him. She'd loved his parents to death and always missed them more than Yamcha when they went on vacation. And now they were dead, killed tragically in a train accident three weeks into the summer. Why hadn't she heard about this sooner?  
  
"How could I have not known about this?"  
  
"It was in Europe. They were taking a second honeymoon on account of my dad's promotion. I don't think anyone but you, and your friends, and the administration know." He took a deep breath, feeling guilty that he hands were on his. He'd betrayed her and now she was comforting him. It was all wrong. "I live with my widowed Aunt. She's nice, just, well, not them."  
  
"And none of your friends know?"  
  
"I don't have people over. And I don't want anyone else knowing. It's bad enough to have my Aunt tell me stories about her and my mother when they were kids. I don't need a bunch of teenagers bombarding me with questions."  
  
"But how could you keep it a secret? I mean, there was a funeral and a mass, and, didn't they notice you were upset?"  
  
"I only cried when I was alone," he sighed, slowly slipping his hands from Bulma. She tried to grab him around the shoulders instead, but he jerked away.  
  
"Yamcha. I know how close you were to them. I can't pretend to know how you feel, but I want to be here for you."  
  
"I wish it didn't have to be this that brought you back to me. I just want you to not be bitter. I was a stupid kid and you were hurt for no reason. I can't ever take that back. My parents are dead and the only thing I want is for you to not cringe when I walk by you."  
  
"Me too," she said hesitantly. She felt oddly comfortable with him, however. They had dated for so long that it was like they'd known each other since birth. All their pubescent stages they'd experienced together, including losing their virginity to one another. Bulma wondered in that instance if she would say yes if he wanted to sleep with her again. And she found that she didn't want to say no, though the thought of being with him after he'd been with another girl, and possibly others, gave her a shiver. He was now more experienced than her.  
  
"What are you thinking?" he suddenly asked her, as if sensing her thoughts. She stiffened.  
  
"I don't want to say. It's…rude."  
  
"Rude?" He laughed, leaning back on his hands, the sun-warmed grass poking out between his fingers. "Try me."  
  
"I was thinking that I…I wouldn't object if you…well, if you asked me to sleep with you again."  
  
He let out another huff of a laugh, then fell back onto the ground, his hands under his head.  
  
"I wouldn't ask you that, B. I'm not going to rope you back into my life. That's not what this is all about."  
  
She laid down beside him, propping her head up with her elbow. The bell rang three times, signaling the end of lunch, before Bulma spoke. Neither was going anywhere anytime soon.  
  
"Then what is it about?"  
  
"Being with you," he said a matter-of-factly. "What else?" He turned on his side to face her, finding the urge to kiss her almost impossible to resist. But he did. "I just wanted to spend some time with you and not have that awful hatred. I know that we can never have what we once did, and really, I wouldn't want that. We weren't good for each other, at all. We weren't even a couple really for, like, the last two years. It was just two people clinging to one another for some unknown reason and being passionate once and awhile to relieve stress. We didn't have a picture perfect relationship. What I want is to be able to talk to you, you know, like in passing, or maybe on the phone sometime, and not have you be thinking in the back of your head what a horrible guy I am and how you want to pop my head off with a shotgun."  
  
"Yamcha, I don't—"  
  
"I know you don't want me dead, even then, but you still were hurt and bitter. I don't want you bitter anymore. That's probably the biggest reason for this—" He motioned between them. "—I can't stand to see you upset or bitter. I want you to feel free to be happy and not have any regrets. Don't look back on us and regret our time together. We were people catering to our own personal needs and it just so happened that we needed another person to fulfill them. When I did what I did it was a release for you from us to pursue other options; think of it that way, otherwise, you'll never get that bitterness to go away."  
  
"You know?" Bulma laughed, finally feeling comfortable enough with the situation to do so. It was clear that he'd already mourned his parents and was slowly beginning to recover and collect himself. She'd be damned if she was going to pressure him into deep conversations about how he felt when he was starting to accept his fate. "That somehow makes complete sense, and I'm not just saying that, either. I get what you mean." She leaned in and kissed his forehead, a tender gesture that she'd done too many times in the past to remember. "And I forgive you."  
  
"I never—"  
  
"I know, but I still do. I see where everything went wrong, and if you hadn't done that when you did, I probably would have later on. Who knows? We weren't meant to have that kind of relationship together, you're right about that. I think friendship works great for us."  
  
He smiled genuinely for the first time since his parents died.  
  
"I owe you everything," he sighed, rolling back onto his back. "And don't worry about my feelings for you. I'll find someone someday to use them on."  
  
"I'll still worry, and you know it."  
  
"I know. You worry about everything."  
  
"Yamcha?"  
  
"Hmm?"  
  
"I loved you too."  
  
"I know you did," he said, his smile broadening. Finally she could be happy again.  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
Bulma walked lazily down the hall, the thought of detention not scaring her as much as she thought it would, having never been a bad kid. It didn't matter that she'd skipped an entire period to talk with Yamcha in the courtyard, and now had detention for the rest of the week. She wondered if the bad kids ever accomplished that in the first week of school, and found that when she entered her assigned room, that they did.  
  
Chi-Chi and Krillin had been confused with her news to them that she was now friends with Yamcha and had forgiven him. Just that morning she'd been cursing him to Hell and now she was skipping class to be with him. Of course the circumstances were understandable, but Bulma's change was not. Sure the guy lost his parents, but he'd still cheated on her. Didn't that still deserve her hate? Chi-Chi thought so.  
  
Maris felt she didn't have a right to put her two cents in, though when Bulma pressured her, admitted that she agreed with her and was sent a glare from Chi-Chi. She knew what he'd meant in his speech to Bulma, which she'd reiterated to them as best as she could; they had never had a truly loving relationship and as a result they could be friends in the long run. It made perfect sense to her.  
  
Now Bulma sat in a room full of kids that either starred openly at her, or ignored her all together. She smelled marijuana as soon as she opened the door and nearly coughed, but stopped herself. Not that the room was filled with smoke, but the smell was not something she had good memories with. She and Yamcha had tried smoking it once together and they'd ended up having unprotected sex and then a pregnancy scare. It was the worst point in their relationship; they fought for weeks and Bulma blamed him completely.  
  
She was definitely out of place there, but not uncomfortable. She knew she'd done wrong by skipping class and so this was her punishment. She wasn't one to get angry when she got what she deserved. But her thoughts were far from the drug-induce stares she was receiving. She was silently mourning the loss of two of the greatest people she'd had the pleasure of meeting.  
  
Mr. and Mrs. Yosano had been a constant part of Bulma's life ever since she and Yamcha began to date. They drove them to their first movie, took them to dinner at their first fancy restaurant, and Mrs. Yosano even took her shopping, though Bulma wasn't exactly the shopping type. They were proud parents and happy spouses, loving each other and their only son perfectly and completely. They knew he had flaws, but instead of sneering at them and grumbling over having "gone wrong" in raising him, they embraced him closer and accepted who he was. And they accepted her as well, even if she wasn't a "prettied-up" girl who caked on make-up and bought expensive dressed for movie dates. She was herself around them, ratty jeans and messy ponytail, and they accepted and loved her.  
  
She put her head down on her desk and cried quietly and freely for the first time since she found out what had befallen her belovéd surrogate parents. She would visit their grave on the way home.  
  
***************************************************************  
  
Vegeta thundered down the halls of Orange Star High School, ignoring all the gasps and stares as he went. Of course they were shocked to see the famed Vegeta Ouji walking through THEIR school, but he hadn't time to shoot them angry glares or bark insults. It was 3:10 and Bulma wasn't in the parking lot awaiting his arrival as she should have been.  
  
He rounded the corner and ran smack dab into someone as they came in the other direction. He was about to yell at them, when he realized it was Maris, and only smirked.  
  
"Vegeta," she said nonchalantly. All those in the halls that were readying themselves to go home stopped what they'd been doing and starred at the megastar that stood in their school. What could he be doing there? Of all places? "Bulma has detention. She'll be out at 3:30."  
  
"Detention?" he scoffed, leaning against the wall. "What'd the harpy do? Raise her hand one too many times?" Of course he knew nothing of Bulma's nature, but figured that since she was a genius, she was the only one in class answering any questions. And never, ever, got detention.  
  
"It's complicated, ok? So I suggest you come back some other time." He gave her a strange look, as if he couldn't understand how someone as cheery and bright-eyed as Maris could be giving him short, stiff answers.  
  
"That's not going to work," he said. "I don't want to see any of you people again, but I never back out of a bet, so I want to get this over and done with as soon as I can. I don't want to spend time with someone I don't like on my vacation. So she best be on my bus at 3:30."  
  
"And if she's not?" Maris held her ground. Bulma had experienced an extremely stressful day already. She was not about to let Vegeta, of all people, ruin it for her further. No matter who he was.  
  
"Whatever," he said after a considerable pause, then turned and walked the other way and around the corner. Maris thought about following him for a split second, then thought the better of it and continued her way out of the school. She had a chemistry quiz to study for.  
  
***************************************************************  
  
Bulma shuffled lazily out of detention, her head full and her eyes swollen. No one had really acknowledged her crying, which she was thankful for, and she was about ready to collapse from emotional exhaustion; she'd been emotionless for the past three months and now her floodgates were broken open. She hadn't realized just how much the Yosanos had meant to her.  
  
She cursed herself for not visiting with them after her break-up with Yamcha.  
  
When she finally reached the humid end-of-summer air outside, she felt a small bit calmer, though nothing close to happy. She wouldn't be happy for a little while with the death of her favorite couple hanging over her head. Not that she felt guilty about it, because that was ridiculous; only upset that she hadn't been able to say good-bye. They were a huge chunk of her life. She practically grew into a woman in their home. And now Yamcha lived with his Aunt? It was almost too much to accept just then. It had been easier when Yamcha was there; comforting another took no thought really. Now she was drowning in sorrow.  
  
"Woman." A sharp voice startled her as she approached her car. To her complete surprise she found Vegeta leaning against it, his arms crossed. Her first thought was: How does he know that's my car? Though she quickly remembered that she'd driven it to the concert.  
  
"Not now, Vegeta," she grumbled. She knew what he wanted, and she was NOT in the mood to go bar hopping with the world's most arrogant man.  
  
"Just get on the damn bus. I don't have all the time in the world, you know."  
  
"I said, NOT NOW!" she barked back, throwing her backpack to the pavement. It wasn't like her to throw fits, but there was just something about that guy that really got under her skin. He wasn't more rude to her than he was anyone else, but just his whole way of carrying himself threw her. He could make so much of his life, and he simply refused to do it. "I just went through hell today. I do not need some arrogant bastard who only thinks about himself trying to get in my pants because of a stupid bet that I wasn't even involved in!" Her fists were clenched so tightly that she thought her fingers might break. She let her arms go limp. "Nevermind," she sighed, grabbing her bag off the parking lot. She fished her keys out of the front pouch, made sure the doors were locked with a beep, then slung the bag over her shoulder and walked calmly towards the massive, looming tour bus. "I need to make a stop on the way."  
  
Vegeta starred after her for a moment, then huffed, and followed. Kami help him if he ever dated a woman like her.  
  
******************************************************************  
  
---Chapter 6!! Hey! How was that? You like my Yamcha thing? I thought it was good, but let's hear what you think :P  
  
REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (Reviews=More Chapters)  
  
Next time: The date!!! 


	7. The Date: Part One

Last time:  
  
"Nevermind," she sighed, grabbing her bag off the parking lot. She fished her keys out of the front pouch, made sure the doors were locked with a beep, then slung the bag over her shoulder and walked calmly towards the massive, looming tour bus. "I need to make a stop on the way."  
  
Vegeta starred after her for a moment, then huffed, and followed. Kami help him if he ever dated a woman like her.  
  
******************************************************  
  
Bulma let herself fall to her knees, her fingers gouging into the soft earth. She grabbed up fistfuls of the slightly moistened soil and threw it back down, seething with sadden fury, her face dripping with tears. The gravestone she sat before was elaborately decorated with carvings that were nearly exact duplicates of artwork that Mrs. Yosano had done, and the poem inscribed had been written by Mr. Yosano. It was longer than an ordinary gravestone, bearing both their names; the way they always wanted it. Not only to be buried side by side, but in the exact same hole in the ground, their coffins touching.  
  
She let out a gasp for air, punched the ground, then stood, not daring to touch the precious granite tribute of love; she was mostly afraid that she would tarnish the proclamation in some way, or disturb her sleeping loved ones. She didn't know which she feared more, though both made her take a step back and just admire the craftsmanship. At that moment she decided that her and Yamcha would be great friends from then on. It struck her deep that it was these circumstances that brought about her change in feelings for her ex-boyfriend, but only the most extreme would have allowed her to hear his words. And she believed him wholeheartedly, and that's why she knew they could be friends; she wouldn't sleep with him again—even if she thought she would have before, she realized now that it was only to comfort him—or lead him to believe in any way that she was interested. Just friends.  
  
Vegeta watched from afar, his back leaning against the tour bus, taking a drag of his cigarette. He exhaled, sneered at the flaming cancer stick, then flicked it away. And he'd been doing such a good job at quitting. Oh well, it was never his thing to give up. So why give up smoking?  
  
He wondered absently who were the people Bulma was mourning over, though didn't care to ask. It was her business, and she'd promised to only be ten minutes. She could cry and scream for her ten minutes, and then they were leaving. If they were going to reach their destination in time, they had to move quickly.  
  
Finally she was finished with her grieving and headed back towards the bus, pulling her cell phone from her pocket. She talked to whoever was on the other end for twenty seconds, then hung up and stopped two feet away from Vegeta.  
  
"Done?" was all he said.  
  
"Yeah. Where's the dress?"  
  
*******************************************************  
  
Goku picked up his cellular phone, dialed six numbers, lingered over the seventh, then pressed "off". 17 and 18 both let out a chuckle at their friend's nervousness. He'd been doing that same exact thing for the past twenty minutes now.  
  
"Just call her, sheesh," 17 said, tossing the tabloid he'd been reading on the coffee table. He was always fascinated by the sheer idiocy of the stories they printed in those things, especially when they were about Green Dragon. "She wants you too. I mean, you kissed her, right? And she kissed you back. Wham, bam, thank you ma'am."  
  
"My ass-kissing brother is right, Goku," 18 said. "Call the girl and ask her out. Better yet. Call her and ask her to bring her other friends. That way you're not pressured by being alone with her." This wasn't exactly 18's style when it came to dating, if she had one at all, but it seemed fitting for the bassist. He was perky, yet shy when it came to girls. He would do better in a group first, then ease into being alone.  
  
"You're right," Goku sighed, finally dialing the entire number and bringing the phone to his ear. Four agonizing rings, and then a familiar voice answered.  
  
"Mau residence."  
  
"Chi-Chi?"  
  
"Speaking."  
  
He let out a great sigh. Kami her voice sounded divine.  
  
"Goku?"  
  
"Yeah," he choked out, his mouth suddenly dry. 17 tossed him a bottled water in noticing his dilemma. He whispered something incoherent to 18, but Goku wasn't paying attention. All his focus had to go into keeping himself calm when he talked to Chi-Chi. He had no clue that she was feeling the exact same knot in the pit of her stomach too. "Are you busy tonight?"  
  
"Not really," she said, her voice steady, though her hands were so tightly squeezing Krillin's that he could barely stand it. "Just hanging out with Krillin and Maris."  
  
"What d'you say me and you, and Krillin and Maris, and the twins go out for a bit?"  
  
"I'd say you read my mind," she laughed.  
  
"Great. Where should we pick you up?"  
  
"511 Dragon Drive. It's in the East 550 area."  
  
"Alright. I can find you. Be ready in ten. Bye."  
  
"Bye."  
  
If their lives had been a movie, the film would have done a split screen of this moment; Goku and Chi-Chi both sighing with relief as they hung up their phones and collapsed into the nearest chair. And their friends laughing behind them, knowing that the seeds of love were already planted and only needed a little bit of care and patience to grow.  
  
Too bad the same wasn't true for a certain black-haired megastar and his fiery heiress.  
  
********************************************************************  
  
"You hit your head or something?" Bulma asked in all seriousness as she starred at the dress he held before her. Never had she worn something so, well, she couldn't even think of a name to call it, it was so completely alien to her.  
  
"Just try it on," Vegeta grumbled, holding it out to her. She grabbed the hooked top of the hanger and watched as he opened the door to the front of the tour bus, told the driver to continue to "the spot", then closed it again. "Well?"  
  
"And if I don't?" She wanted to hurl the dress out of the now moving vehicle. Black wasn't even a good color for her. Not that she paid attention to that kind of thing.  
  
"Look." He ran one hand through his unruly hair and looked up at her, his head bowed slightly. She could tell that he wasn't enjoying this anymore than she was, and it struck her with a kind of satisfaction that she could make him completely miserable. All her years of adoring him seemed to wash away from her and now her soul desire of the evening was making sure she never saw his face again. "Put on the dress. If you don't like it, then we can stop somewhere and get you another one. Ok?"  
  
She was about to shout her already formulated come back, when she realized he was compromising with her, and only sighed.  
  
"Alright. Hang on."  
  
As she slipped on the simmering black dress, the coolness of the fabric seemed to soothe her anger. It felt nice to wear something so elegant and expensive, for even with all her wealth, she chose comfort over style. And she was surprised that it covered her more than the dress Chi-Chi had offered her a few days ago. It was form fitting from the waist up, pressing her breasts together, though not in a way that would permanently brand her as a slut; it was sleeveless, the straps concealed under what looked like scarves attached at the top of her shoulders. The bottom half of the dress flowed out and went to just below her knees, fanning out gracefully when she twirled in front of the mirror. It had a diamondesque simmer to it, though not in that gaudy way that can be duplicated in any cheap clothing store. This dress was a designer dress, and she felt beautiful for the first time in her life.  
  
She realized, as she reached for the door, that she wasn't wearing any make-up, and that her hair was pulled into a sloppy ponytail. There was no way she was wearing this dress and looking the way she did.  
  
"Vegeta?" she called through the door.  
  
"What?" He was leaning against it, unnerving her.  
  
"Did you by any chance buy make-up with this dress?"  
  
He let out a laugh.  
  
"18's make-up and junk is in the top drawer of the cabinet."  
  
"Thanks."  
  
"Hmph," was in only response.  
  
***************************************************************  
  
Bulma had to practically hold her breath as she came out of the bathroom; she couldn't know what his reaction would be, and though she tried to convince herself that she didn't care, deep down she wanted him to fall flat on his face in worship. She stood there for a full twenty seconds, as he looked her over, before she let herself breathe. Her breasts heaved slightly and a faint smile was playing on her lips. She knew she looked magnificent. But was it good enough to scrape a compliment from Vegeta?  
  
He smirked at her after what seemed like an eternity, then said, "Well, I've never seen a nerd look so good."  
  
Her stomach turned as the obvious compliment washed over her. But instead of smiling sweetly and saying thank you, she sharply said, "I don't need to doll myself up to look good."  
  
"But it helps," he laughed, turning towards his room.  
  
"Where're you going?"  
  
"To change. You didn't think I'd wear this when you're wearing that?"  
  
He emerged from his room some five minutes later, decked out in a black three-piece suit, a sullen look on his face.  
  
"What?"  
  
"I hate this," he muttered, reaching into his pocket for his cigarettes. He smacked the pack into his palm, drew one cigarette with his lips, then offered one to Bulma.  
  
"I don't smoke."  
  
"Really?" was all he said, then lit the addictive stick of tobacco and paper, inhaling it fully.  
  
She wrinkled her nose at this. She hated smoking and anyone who smoked around her. Ever since she was a child and her grandmother had died of cancer she'd hated smoking. When Yamcha tried his first cigarette in the 8th grade, Bulma wouldn't talk to him for a week. But she'd been childish then, letting her own annoyances get in the way of her relationships with others. This she could ignore, if he kept his distance that is. The moment he stepped too close and she got a whiff of his nicotine breath, she'd let loose on him.  
  
"You're one of those anti-smokers, aren't you?" he asked suddenly. Bulma jumped slightly, having not expected him to say anything more to her until they arrived at wherever their destination was.  
  
"No," she answered firmly. "I don't like smoking, but I'm not going to tell you that you can't smoke around me. That'd be childish."  
  
"I'll put it out if you want," he said, surprising her completely. Where was all this niceness coming from? Was he the same Vegeta she'd met that weekend? What happened to him to cause such a change? Was he high? Or drunk?  
  
"It's fine," she insisted, though what she really wanted to say was, "Yes, damn it! You're disgusting!"  
  
He smirked up at her, making sure she noticed him, then smooched the cigarette into the ashtray that sat on the counter behind him.  
  
"I'll brush my teeth too."  
  
Before she could stop him, he was already down the hall, leaving her ten times more confused than she already was. But before she could delve too deep into her thoughts, the bus driver yelled, "We're here Mr. Ouji!" from his enclosed space, and she ran to the nearest window, pressing her face into the cold tinted glass to get a better view. She wanted to rub her eyes to make sure she was seeing clearly, but quickly remembered the make-up she'd just spent twenty minutes on and instead clutched the tiny purse Vegeta had provided her. She almost didn't notice that he was standing beside her. He smelled deliciously minty.  
  
"Now will you loosen up?" he grumbled. "Kami…"  
  
But she wasn't listening. She was too busy staring at THE hottest place in Japan, The Lion's Den, a five star restaurant combined with the most exclusive dance club, admitting only the most famous of the famous. When she had first heard about the place she'd immediately turned her nose up at the idea, finding it preposterous like all the rest of the "sleazy" nightclubs around. She hated the whole idea of half naked women rubbing up against horny men, drunk out of their minds, and smoking and snorting all the drugs known to man. But after some research, insisted upon by Chi-Chi, she found that it was actually a place she would want to go, if she could get in, of course. She loved the fancy restaurant part—romantic, elegant, quiet—and then the club part—dancing, having fun, letting loose, and absolutely no illegal drugs would be tolerated. It was almost like bringing two completely different worlds together, though the sections were technically separate. Classical music played in the restaurant, and the hottest club music blared in the club. And even she, the heiress of Capsule Corp. Bulma Briefs, could never have been permitted access on her own. It was THAT exclusive.  
  
"How—?" she started, but found her voice wouldn't project the words she was thinking.  
  
"Green Dragon is hot now, I suppose," he said off-handedly, stopping himself from reaching for his pack of cigarettes that were no longer in his jacket pocket. "The club owner called me a week ago and said I needed to make an appearance." He took a deep breath, as if he were going over some important plan in his head, then said, "Your dress will be fine for the restaurant AND the club. But there's no way in hell I'm staying in this when I dance. I'll leave you with a body guard when I change."  
  
"A body guard?" she laughed, finally pulling her eyes away from the window. "I think I can handle myself."  
  
"I'm responsible for you, woman. You're getting a guard whether you like it or not."  
  
"And what, you have body guards follow you EVERYWHERE?"  
  
"Pretty much," he scoffed. "There's one waiting right outside the bus right now to escort us inside. Three of them came in a car behind us."  
  
"That's ridiculous. You guys didn't have any body guards at the bar this weekend."  
  
"You're sure about that?"  
  
"But—"  
  
"Look. Let's just get this over with, ok? We're on the road at 9:00 tomorrow."  
  
"You're a damn yo-yo, did you know that?"  
  
"Yes," he huffed sarcastically, wrapping his arm around her waist as if it were the most natural thing in the world. And she realized, rather jealously, though she hated to admit it, that that was probably the truth; he was so used to wining and dining girls that when he put his arm around her he barely changed his manner. "The owner knows I'm coming tonight," he informed her. "So there's going to be paperotsy. Just—" He reached for the doorknob and gave it a quick turn. Bulma figured it was a signal to the guard outside. "—stay close to me, ok?"  
  
She nodded slowly, her eyes suddenly fixed on all the flashing cameras and eager reporters that crowded around the tour bus. A young blonde woman in a tight gray pinstriped suit came crashing through the others and forced a microphone and video camera in Vegeta's face. He only snarled viciously at her and pushed the hunky piece of equipment aside, pulling Bulma to come with him off the bus steps.  
  
"Vegeta!" the blonde called after him, hissing as her cameraman couldn't keep up. "Vegeta! Can you tell me who this lovely girl is you are with? Is she another fling? Or are you finally settling down?"  
  
"What a stupid question," Bulma mumbled under her breath, unaware that the microphone picked up her voice.  
  
"Good Kami!" another reporter suddenly gasped, shoving right into the blonde and nearly toppling her over. "You're Bulma Briefs, heiress of Capsule Corp., aren't you!"  
  
Bulma barely had time to glare at the annoying reporters as Vegeta yanked her away and practically ran into the building, the first body guard leading the way and the other two bringing up the rear. If they had shut the door two seconds sooner, the nasty reporter's camera would have been ruined.  
  
"Great," one of the guards huffed, leaning against the door, though didn't for more than a second, seeing as hundreds of angry fists were banging on the other side. "Your agent is gonna blow her stack when she reads the tabloids tomorrow."  
  
"Everything's under control, Bobbo," Vegeta insisted, his arm still firmly holding onto Bulma. She almost blushed, though quickly remembered what a jerk he'd been to her. "'The Boss' knows that I'm with her. And she knows how retarded the press gets. So stop blubbering and get us a decent table." The guard only grumbled at his duty and began walking away. "And make sure we're not around a lot of people!" he called after him.  
  
"His name's Bobbo?" Bulma asked, a hint of laughter behind her voice, as they waited to be seated.  
  
"No," he said shortly. "But it suits him."  
  
Moments later "Bobbo" came back, a sullen look etched in his features, and mumbled that their table would be ready in a few minutes and that they should wait at the bar.  
  
As they entered the lavishly decorated restaurant, Bulma found that she couldn't keep her mouth closed or her eyes from darting in all directions so not to miss a single piece of artwork or fancy table setting. The walls were a rich vermilion, scattered with sweeping golden designs that seemed to burst from the walls in their magnificence. All the doorways were draped with the same red color, the heavy fabric being pulled back and held in place by fancy gold ropes. In the four corners of the massive dining hall, there stood four distinctly different, but very similar, marble statues of Greek gods and goddesses. And when Bulma happened to glance down as they walked to the bar, she noticed the floor was the same beautiful white marble.  
  
"I'm in love," she whispered as she slid onto a bar stool, her eyes still on the room behind her, though she only saw half of it through the open doorway. She'd always had a passion of Greek and/or Roman decorating styles. She vowed that when she had her own place she'd dedicate an entire wing to Greek and Roman; marble floors and statures, water fountains, giant vases with real-looking wax flowers, and anything else she could think of that would look Greek or Roman.  
  
"You're happy then?" Vegeta asked, waving the bartender over.  
  
"Yeah. This'll work."  
  
"Good. Then I don't have to hear about it from Jun."  
  
"What'll it be?" the bartender asked as he approached them, his face drawn and almost angry.  
  
"Scotch neat," Vegeta said, reaching into his pocket, then grumbling.  
  
"And for the lady?"  
  
"Bourbon, please."  
  
Vegeta looked at her out of the corner of his eye, a small smile on his lips. At least she wasn't a wuss and ordered his dates' usual Shirley Temple.  
  
Maybe 18 and Jun were right. Maybe this was just what he needed.  
  
*************************************************************  
  
17 and 18 had to practically drag Goku out of the car and up the driveway, with him trying to escape the entire time. On their way over, he'd chickened out and wanted to turn back around. Though, unfortunately for him, 18 was driving, and wouldn't allow him to be a coward.  
  
"She's expecting you," 17 said, avoiding Goku's wild legs as they kicked out. "And you don't want to let her down, do you? Then she'll never want to get to know you."  
  
"Besides," 18 cut in. "She likes you too. It's obvious."  
  
At this Goku finally relaxed and shrugged off his friends' hands.  
  
"Alright," he sighed, stepping up onto the porch and ringing the doorbell, surprising them both. They'd expected him to stand there for several moments and wait for them to ring the bell.  
  
"Hey Goku," Chi-Chi said, shoving aside her usual shyness. She wanted so desperately for him to like her as much as she did. "17, 18."  
  
"Hey there!" the twins said in unison, gently pushing past her and into the house. She didn't care though, her eyes and mind completely focused on the incredibly attractive man that stood before her.  
  
"You look great," Goku finally said, know that a fierce blush was rising in his cheeks.  
  
"Thanks," she murmured, though she was only wearing a tee shirt and jeans. She'd taken Bulma's little "slut" speech to heart and decided to dress more conservatively. "So, where're we going?"  
  
"Bowling," he said, his lips curling into a smile, as he was finally feeling comfortable.  
  
"Really!" she all but squealed, throwing her arms around his neck. "I'm so completely addicted to bowling!"  
  
"Me too," he said quietly, his arms wrapped around her tiny waist, thinking that he'd never been happier.  
  
*********************************************************  
  
---Chapter 7!! Ok, so not a lot of dramatic stuff happened, but I'm still easing into this thing. I happen to like how things are going, you know? Hopefully you do ^_^ I mean, I did get them on their dates and semi-comfortable with one another, so that's a start, right? I'm not one for jumping ahead. I like to take my fics slowly.  
  
REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (Reviews=More Chapters)  
  
Next time: The rest of the gang's dates…  
  
Note: My beta-reader is on vacation, so no one but me read through this. Hopefully not TOO much is wrong with it. 


	8. The Date: Part Two

Last time:  
  
"Really!" she all but squealed, throwing her arms around his neck. "I'm so completely addicted to bowling!"  
  
"Me too," he said quietly, his arms wrapped around her tiny waist, thinking that he'd never been happier.  
  
****************************************************  
  
Every time Vegeta pulled her a little bit closer, a small shiver ran up Bulma's spine, pricking the back of her neck. They'd been done with dinner for about an hour and had been dancing since, though most songs were fast paced and gave Bulma ample opportunity to snake out of his grasp. When slow songs would come on, she would excuse herself quickly and dash to the bar for a drink, usually water, then "conveniently" come back when another faster song came on.  
  
But now, pressed so close to him, she couldn't exactly remember why she wanted to stay so far away in the first place. He hadn't been short, or snotty, or any of the personality traits he'd shown her over the weekend, thus sending her into a swirling tornado of confusion. She'd been immensely attracted to him before, but then he'd been so callous and rude, but now…now she couldn't exactly put her feelings for him in any certain place. He was unpredictable, and therefore she couldn't make any assumptions about him just yet.  
  
As the song came crawling to a close, and Vegeta still didn't release her as all the other couples had, Bulma felt her heart flutter and her pulse quicken. What did he have in store for her? Was this what he actually wanted? To be close to her? Or was it some game? Some ridiculous joke that she'd be the butt of sooner or later? She decided that if that was the case, then she could at least say that she met her favorite band and went on a date with the most famous member. She figured it wasn't a total loss. Besides, the others were nothing like Vegeta. She'd be more than thrilled if she could keep in touch with any of them.  
  
"Vegeta," Bulma finally whispered as the next song, one with a rather fast beat, came on. "The song's over."  
  
Reluctantly he moved away, brushing his fingertips along her stomach, almost causing her knees to buckle. What was it about him that was so unbelievably irresistible? And it was then that she noticed all the eyes in the club seemed to be on her and Vegeta, and when she turned her head sharply to confirm her suspicions, everyone else's heads quickly turned as well.  
  
"Everyone's staring at us," she said as they walked off the dance floor and toward the bar.  
  
"Get used to it," Vegeta replied with a throaty grumble, beckoning the bartender with his finger. "Scotch neat and a bourbon."  
  
"You remembered," she half-laughed. She slid onto the barstool next to him and gently tugged at her dress, though it covered well more than she could live with for a night. Only nervous gestures that Vegeta was utterly oblivious to. "It's warm in here."  
  
"We can go outside if you want."  
  
"Outside?" She wrinkled her nose in disgust. "I'm not going out there if there's still a swarm of journalists."  
  
"No. Not where any of those morons can find us." And before she knew it, he had her by the hand and was pulling her toward a door marked "Roof Entrance—Employees Only".  
  
"The roof? Vegeta—" But they were already through the door and climbing the stairs, her four inch heels giving her more than enough trouble to be considered a pain in the ass.  
  
"You know," Bulma sighed, as she sat on one of the many stone benches that were scattered around the rooftop; along with potted plants, a water-feature, and a spectacular view of the entire city. "I don't really know that much about you. Other than you can be very irritating sometimes…Well, most of the time." Her words her slightly slurred and, as she lifted her bourbon to her lips and took a small ladylike sip, Vegeta realized she was thoroughly intoxicated, a fact that sent an immediate frown to his features. She was completely untouchable for the rest of the night. He cursed himself for not stopping her at four drinks.  
  
"What do you want to know?" he asked dully, looping his arm around her shoulders and pulling her an inch or so closer. If he was going to succeed with this date, he was going to have to dig rather deep and watch his sharp tongue. The last thing he needed was Jun or 18 jumping down his throat for causing another uproar.  
  
"Why is 18 always yelling at you? What the hell are you doing that pisses her off so much?" She downed the rest of her drink then went to set the glass on the ground, only to have it slip from her fingers and shatter. She only laughed at her mishap and turned back to Vegeta, her head light and fuzzy.  
  
"That's nothing that can tell you what you want to know."  
  
"And what do I want to know?"  
  
"You said you wanted to know about me. That won't explain anything," he said dryly, then took a sip of his Scotch.  
  
"Can I have some?"  
  
"What?"  
  
She pointed to his glass of Scotch, though, without waiting for a response, snatched it away and gulped the remaining liquid. And as before, she let the glass drop out of her hand and it crashed to the ground right where her own had.  
  
"I don't want to have to hold your hair while you puke," he murmured, shaking his head. He was lucky that his other dates hadn't been this open with him to drink themselves silly. Most only ordered virgin drinks and kept talk to strictly after date "activities", thus bringing him to the point he hated most: the aftermath. Oh well, at least she wasn't completely concerned with impressing him. That really got under his skin. The only thing that got him through his dates was the promise of "no strings sex" and knowing that he would never see the girl again. This one, however, he was drawn to in an entirely nonsexual way, though the attraction was there too. If the opportunity arose, and she wasn't drunk, he'd have her in bed faster than she could take her clothes off. But that wasn't what he wanted right then. Right then he just wanted to—"How drunk are you, woman?"  
  
"Don't call me—"  
  
"Just answer me," he sighed, rolling his eyes.  
  
"Drunk enough to not care that I'm drunk," she laughed. "But sober enough to know what I'm doing. And don't you even THINK about smoking around me. I lied before. I DESPISE smokers. Go to Hell and smoke 'til you die."  
  
"And apparently you're drunk enough to not make sense. Kami, woman, what's all this about?"  
  
"All what?"  
  
"The drinking. Is that what you people do on dates?"  
  
"What do you mean, you people?" she slurred, cocking her head to the side and giving him a nasty look, her hair falling from her forehead. Even in this state she was absolutely gorgeous.  
  
"High school kids," he said with a wave of his hand. "I didn't do the school thing really. I wouldn't know how it is. Boring shit, I gather."  
  
"For me, it's all boring." She shook her head and straightened her back, though subsequently moved even closer to her companion. "I'm in every college level course, the smartest kid there, and I can't find a single challenge. I work in my dad's lab to push myself, but even then…" Her words trailed off as she noticed Vegeta's intense stare. What was he thinking? "What?" she asked, tipping her head to the right.  
  
"How drunk are you?"  
  
"I already answered you, MAN. How drunk are YOU?"  
  
"I'm going to kiss you now, ok?" he said nonchalantly, tightening his grip on her shoulder. "If you're going to scream like a harpy or slap me or something, tell me."  
  
She nodded, her eyes as hazy as her mind. What had he been saying?  
  
He leaned in and captured her lips, ignoring the strong taste of bourbon—a drink he didn't particularly like—and instead focused on the way she completely surrendered to him, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him as close as possible. But when his hand suddenly touched her thigh, she lurched back and stumbled to her feet.  
  
"I'm not going to be one of your whores, Vegeta!" she spat, wiping at her mouth and nearly tripping in her heels, though managed to catch herself on the armrest of the bench. "Don't think that just because I'm a tad bit intoxicated that you can take advantage of me! I didn't sign up to be a Vegeta Ouji groupie!"  
  
"That's not what I was doing!" he shot back, furious that she would think such a thing. Of course, the thought had crossed his mind, but he would never sink as low as to take advantage of a drunken woman. That wasn't his style at all. "And what the hell are you getting so bitchy about? You said I could kiss you, damn it!"  
  
"Kiss me, not fondle me!" She threw her hands in the air as if she were giving up, then added, "I don't know what you thought you were getting tonight, but it isn't me!"  
  
"Would you shut up for one Kami damned second, woman, and let me talk?"  
  
"I believe the answer to that obvious question is NO. No, I am not going to let you glorify yourself with some ridiculous lie. Screw you!"  
  
"This is so unbelievable. Come on, we're leaving. I can't stand to be around you another minute. I'm going to strangle your little friend for putting me through this."  
  
"And what about 18? And your manager person?" she snarled, chasing after him, the pulse of the club music growing louder as they descended the stairs. "I heard that conversation this weekend. I know you guys planned something with me! And I want to know what it is!"  
  
"Right woman, I'll tell you. Right away. I'll also tell you every little tid-bit of information you want to know about me." He whipped his head around and shot her an icy glare. "My favorite color is blue."  
  
"Really? I thought it'd be pink, you little priss!"  
  
"Shut up before you cause a damn scene. The last thing I need is you getting us bad publicity because you're too drunk to know what you're saying."  
  
"Fuck you."  
  
"Fuck you back. Now let's go."  
  
***********************************************************  
  
17 lifted Maris off the ground and twirled her around twice before setting her back down, his excitement still coursing rapidly through his veins.  
  
"We won!" he shouted, pumping his fist in the air. The other two teams, Chi-Chi with Goku and Krillin with 18, only stared in mild acceptance. They could not believe that two people who didn't even like to bowl had not only scored better than them, but cleared their scores by at least 50 points each. "You guys owe us ice cream."  
  
"I cannot believe it," 18 grumbled, holding her head in her right hand. "My dim witted brother can't catch a damn football, but this he can do. Figures."  
  
"You're just a sore loser, 18," he shot back, grinning madly, his arm still loosely around Maris' waist, giving Krillin an immediate upset stomach. What the hell was wrong with him? Here he was with the most amazing woman in the world, one who with every new detail he found out was coming closer and closer to being his dream girl, and all he could do was get queasy when 17 got a little too close to Maris! He really needed to sort out his thoughts. In the past week he'd gone from having a steady girlfriend, to crushing on an old crush, to meeting 18 Gero and having feelings for the both of them.  
  
"Please. I beat you in football ALL the time. You're such a pansy when it comes to contact sports. I can see why you're so good at this."  
  
"Shove it," he hissed, though couldn't keep the smile off his face. He didn't care what she said. Right now his thoughts were completely on Maris. Well, almost completely. In the back of his mind he could not stop thinking about Bulma and how her forced date with Vegeta was going. Had they hit it off? Were they falling for each other? He hoped not. Though at the same time, he hoped they had so that Maris would be free and he could have her. But who did he really want? He didn't know…  
  
What he also didn't know was that Maris was struggling with the exact same thoughts. She also had feelings for two different people, two completely new and completely opposite personalities. She'd come to the show expecting to still "love" 17 when she left, and never, in all her dreams, thought she'd actually meet him. And now, after sharing that passionate kiss with Vegeta, she felt her heart give in and try to go in two different directions. Well, now that she thought about it, her eyes suddenly falling on Krillin, she realized that she'd had a small crush on him since the day she found him fighting in the fountain at the mall. So now her total was up to three, and she didn't feel any less confused. She had a horrible feeling that their meeting Green Dragon would be the death of them.  
  
And unbeknownst to her, Krillin and 17 were thinking of the exact same fate.  
  
"So, come on, let's go get that ice cream," Maris suddenly said, bringing herself from her downer thoughts. Right now she was going to enjoy her time with her new friends.  
  
Everyone agreed with nods and half-hearted yeses, still feeling that it was absolutely wrong that two inexperienced bowlers had beaten them, who bowl as much as they possibly can. They reached the ice cream parlor some ten minutes later, now laughing and deep in conversation about their daily lives and little jokes here and there. It was almost as if they'd all been friends for years.  
  
"So," 17 laughed, slurping at his root beer float, "what's high school like? We've never been."  
  
"It sucks," Maris answered quickly.  
  
"I second that," Chi-Chi said around a mouthful of vanilla ice cream with strawberry syrup and peanut butter chips; everyone had wrinkled their noses at her choice of toppings.  
  
"I third it," Krillin laughed. "I envy you guys that you can travel all over the world and only have to do schoolwork when you're not out having fun. It's the complete opposite for us. Work, then play."  
  
"Oh, it's not all fun my man," said 17. "We have contracts and restrictions, so many restrictions, and tour dates, no matter how we feel we have to perform, plus all the stress Vegeta adds to our lives, what with his irresponsible headliners. And then you add schoolwork on top of all that, AND we have to pass by a certain age or our parents, and Jun, will tear us new ones." He sighed deeply and frowned at his empty glass, scraping the bottom of it with his spoon. "You have NO idea how nerve-racking it is. Some days I wish I'd never agreed to being in Green Dragon."  
  
"Yeah," Goku agreed, though in the back of his mind he was wondering if it was right for him to grab Chi-Chi's hand under the table.  
  
"Stupid Vegeta," 18 mumbled. "He's being such a pain in the ass right now."  
  
"How so?" Krillin asked, though the words were on the tips of Chi-Chi and Maris' tongues too. They'd almost blurted out their secret, that they'd heard the conversation and wanted to know exactly what they'd been talking about, for nothing they said really told them anything.  
  
"Just his liaisons with every girl he meets." She rolled her eyes and sighed, her shoulders rising and falling. It seemed she was at her wits' end with him. "He's so immature about it, too. There's this one woman, Sen, and Kami does he have us all in a rut with her. Just the other day—" Before she could get another word out 17 kicked her in the shin and gave her a look as if you say, "Don't you dare continue."  
  
"Just the other day what?" Maris asked innocently, turning to 17, who she knew had stopped the flow of words.  
  
"Nothing that we can tell you," 18 said, a sudden and completely unexpected contempt behind her voice. There was something about Maris that she didn't like, though would not admit that it was jealousy. She, 18 Gero, was NEVER jealous of ANYONE. Especially not no-name city girls with no class.  
  
Maris felt her heated stare and slowly leaned back, sizing up the competition. Then, in an instant, she realized that she didn't care if 18 didn't like her or wouldn't tell her what she wanted to know. If she wanted to be short with her, then Maris could play her game, too. She wasn't one for revenge, but challenges and competitions—she lived for those. The name of the game: Love. The prize: Krillin. The battlefield: Their minds.  
  
"Come on," she urged, giving Krillin a look that only he noticed. "Please."  
  
"Yeah, 18," Krillin added, catching onto Maris' lifted eyebrows in a second. If she couldn't pry it out of her, then he might still have a chance. "It's not like we're going to tell anyone. We're not even telling people at school most of what happened last weekend, just that we saw the show and went backstage. We don't like other people knowing our business, we're a tight group, and we sure as hell don't tell other people's business when we're not entitled to."  
  
"Jun would drop us all in a second if she knew what I was about to tell you."  
  
"18!" 17 snapped, slapping his hands on the table. "As much as we need to get this stuff off our chests, we CANNOT tell anyone what's going on! What if someone here heard you and told the press! We'd all be ruined!"  
  
"Then let's go to my house," Maris said, then added, with a small smile directed at Krillin, the first move in her self-declared war, "My parents are out of town."  
  
18 caught the smile and almost let out an angry hiss, knowing exactly what she was up to. Fine, if she wanted to play, then so be it. She was NOT going to let her have Krillin, not when she finally found the perfect guy she'd been looking for her entire life and never thought she'd find. He was so totally different from her usual dates; smart, funny, classy, polite, instead of rude, callous, and haughty, and only thinking about getting into her pants. He was different in every way and, right then, she knew, that if she let herself, she could fall in love with him, something she promised herself she'd never do.  
  
**********************************************************  
  
It wasn't an easy thing to squeeze through a crowd of hundreds of people and dial a number on a cell phone at the same time, plus the added annoyance of an angry woman who barked down your throat. But, somewhere between the roof entrance and the club exit, Vegeta managed to get 18 on the line.  
  
"Can you hear me!" he yelled over the loud music, barely catching her voice.  
  
"Hardly! Call me back when you get outside!"  
  
He hung up the phone in frustration and tugged on Bulma's arm.  
  
"Let go of me," she hissed, yanking her arm free. "I already told you that I wasn't going to sleep with you. So back the hell off."  
  
"You're incorrigible, you know that?"  
  
"Big vocabulary for a barbarian," she snorted, the effects of the bourbon still fogging her vision and her mind, giving her a distorted view of the situation. If it had been any other time, she probably wouldn't have been so harsh on him. But alcohol really brought out her bad side.  
  
Finally they pushed open the doors to the street, both breathing in deeply the fresh air. It was beyond stuffy in the club portion of The Lion's Den, what with all the bodies and dancing.  
  
They were lucky to discover that all the news vans were gone, leaving only a line of cars waiting to be parked. Vegeta spotted the bus in an instant and resisted the urge to grab Bulma's wrist to get her to walk faster. He wanted to be on his way to getting as far away from her as he could.  
  
Once inside the bus, having demanded that the driver leave IMMEDIATELY, Vegeta quickly dialed 18's cellular phone number again and barked, "Where are you?"  
  
"Maris' house. Why?"  
  
"Where is that?"  
  
"Why? Is the date over already?"  
  
"Yes, the stupid date is over. I'm bringing the woman there. Where is it?"  
  
"What? Bringing me WHERE!" Bulma yelled, trying to pry the phone off his ear.  
  
"Get off, woman!" he snapped, the sudden feel of her plump breasts on his back almost too much for him. "Just give me the general area. I know your car."  
  
"How do you know we took my car?"  
  
"Because, it's the only one that can fit all those people, now tell me!"  
  
"Alright, alright. Sheesh." There was a pause, in which she held her hand on the speaker and asked Maris what her address was. "3435 Oolong Ave. Got that?"  
  
"Got it."  
  
**********************************************************  
  
After a bit of careful persuasion, the group managed to get Bulma into the house, drink a glass of water, and stay in the kitchen until they got the story from Vegeta, who left immediately afterward. They didn't exactly believe his story, and would definitely ask Bulma about it later, when she was sobered up, of course.  
  
Now they all sat in Maris' den, a perfectly square room painted royal blue and full of throw pillows and foot-high tables. It was her sanctuary, the only place she loved being more than the arcade or the library.  
  
"So," Krillin began, taking a seat on a rather large velvety green pillow. He leaned on his left arm, his head tilted to the side and almost touching 18's shoulder. Maris tried to ignore their closeness and instead focused on 17, who seemed to be in a borderline panic. "What's this about Vegeta that we can't talk about in public?"  
  
Bulma stiffened at the mention of his name, though cocked her head to the side, confused by his words. Was he talking about what she thought he was? And if so, why didn't anyone tell her about this? But right then, as the words sunk in, Goku set a steaming mug of coffee in front of her, distracting her almost instantly. It was like she had A.D.D. or something when she was drunk; every little thing caught her attention. She almost fell several times walking through the club when the lights diverted her.  
  
"It's so damn complicated," 18 sighed, running her fingers through her platinum blonde hair, wondering in the back of her mind why she felt the need to tell these people—who were basically strangers—this personal information. But she figured 17 was right; they desperately needed to get it off their chests and discuss the situation with other people besides themselves. "Where do I start?"  
  
"Vegas," Goku cut in, picking his head up from Chi-Chi's shoulder as he spoke. He clasped her hand tightly in his lap, refusing to let it go. Not that she wanted to, though.  
  
"Right. Vegas…Vegas, Vegas, Vegas." She glanced up at the group, nearly startled when all eyes were on her. All eyes but Bulma's, who was currently tracing the partner of a pillow in her lap. "Well," she sighed, "we were on tour in the States for a few months about…er…ten or eleven months ago. And, of course, Vegeta had to hit the casinos and clubs and cause all sorts of unnecessary trouble for us. We almost had to cancel one of our shows 'cause we couldn't find him."  
  
"Bastard," 17 grumbled under his breath.  
  
"I second that," 18 laughed bitterly. "Anyway, he ended up meeting this woman, Sen, at a casino and got to talking with her, well, hitting on her. And so they got drunk, or high, or something—he doesn't even know—and ended up, where else?, in bed together. But not before he completely screwed us for the rest of our careers."  
  
"How'd'you mean?" Krillin couldn't help but ask.  
  
"Well Sen is a very persistent person. If she wants something and can find a way to get it, no matter how cruel and heartless it is, she'll do it. In her case she wanted money, and lots of it. She was in Vegas trying to win big, though I'm not sure exactly why she didn't just play the casinos in Japan. Oh well…Anyway, she wanted money, and found the perfect way to get it."  
  
"How?" It was Chi-Chi this time who could not keep the words from escaping her mouth.  
  
"When they were drunk they somehow ended up in a wedding chapel."  
  
Bulma's ears suddenly perked and she nearly dropped her coffee mug.  
  
"They got married—" Bulma let go of her mug, her fingers slipping to grasp the pillow in her lap. "—and she won't grant him an annulment, and divorce is completely out of the question because of Vegeta's mother's religion and the fact that divorces are usually messy and would create a lot of publicity."  
  
"That bitch," Maris snapped, her face pinching in anger. So that's what they were talking about.  
  
"Oh, that's not all," 17 sighed, flipping his head from one side to the other.  
  
"What else?"  
  
"She was pregnant at the time they met, or so Vegeta says—" Bulma felt her resolve begin to bend. NO! Kami no! "—but Sen has a different story, and we believe her. We think the baby is Vegeta's…"  
  
************************************************************  
  
---Chapter 8!!! Woo! Can you believe it! Vegeta might be a FATHER! Ahhhh! What the hell! That's moron! Heehee! Oh, and just the little fact that he's MARRIED! Kami! Sheesh! How the hell is everything supposed to work out now! Well—heehee—you'll see ;) I have a lot of twists planned, and some that are already in motion, this was just the first. The second I have all set up and will reveal pretty soon, well, no, probably not. LOL! But I will let you know when something is a twist or not, or whatever, just review :P  
  
REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (Reviews=More Chapters)  
  
Next time: Hmm…I dunno, heehee!  
  
Note: Sorry about the Vegeta/Bulma fight, but that's how I like things, heehee. I like them to be as far away as possible and then—BAM!—they end up together. Plus, slower fics are also my thing. So don't be mad, PLEASE! ^~^ 


	9. The Prize

Last time:  
  
"What else?"  
  
"She was pregnant at the time they met, or so Vegeta says—" Bulma felt her resolve begin to bend. NO! Kami no! "—but Sen has a different story, and we believe her. We think the baby is Vegeta's…"  
  
******************************************************************  
  
"So, how was your date with Mr. Spectacular?" Yamcha joked, digging into his peanut butter ice cream. "The whole school's been talking about it. I heard he came storming into the school looking for you."  
  
"Yeah," Bulma sighed. She hadn't touched her banana split. "The jerk. Caused a big scene and everything. Worst part is I almost fell for him. Ick!"  
  
"Almost?" He arched an eyebrow at her. Wasn't he the same guy she had plastered all over the inside of her locker? The same guy whose poster hung above her bed? The same guy who she'd been drooling over ever since Green Dragon started?  
  
"Yeah, but he's a jerk. Chauvinistic pig. Nothing like you, Yamcha. You're my type."  
  
"So, what, you just hate the guy?"  
  
"Not hate. Hate such a strong—Yes! I hate him!" she gasped, throwing down her spoon. "Do you know what I heard from his band mates the other night? I almost had a damn heart attack right there on the floor!"  
  
"Bulma, I hardly think you should be telling me their secrets. I doubt they want it to be public knowledge."  
  
"Are you saying I can't trust you to not tell?"  
  
"What did they say?" he sighed, pushing his own dish of ice cream away. Sure he was happy that she'd called him up that morning and wanted to hang out, but to hear her complain about another guy that she so obviously liked? He didn't know if he could bear it. They weren't together, they would never be together again, and she didn't love him. What chance had he with her? And yet, in the back of his mind, he couldn't help but be a little bit jealous, and all he could think was, "She's over me completely. She's found someone new. I'm JUST a friend, a shoulder to cry on, and Kami I love her so much!"  
  
"He's married to some chick in America and they may or may not have a kid together."  
  
"May or may not have a kid? How's that possible?"  
  
"Well," she sighed, seemingly exhausted. Was she getting enough sleep? He glanced at her bony arms. Was she eating enough? "He says she was pregnant when they met, but his band mates seem to think he got her pregnant. They got married in a chapel in Vegas. She drains the band of millions each year to keep her mouth shut. Stupid whore…"  
  
"But you don't like him?"  
  
"No!" she snapped. "Of course not. Why does everyone think that? Kami!"  
  
"Sorry I asked," he said, having a hard time withholding a bitter laugh. She liked him, and it was so obvious, and he wanted nothing more than to beat this guy's face in for hurting her. But, as soon as the thought crossed his mind, he knew that hating the guy was stupid and foolish. He was THAT guy. A liar and a cheater and a rotten lowlife. He wanted to make everything up to her, but how? What could he possibly—"That's it."  
  
"What's it?"  
  
"Nothing. Hey, we're gonna be late for that movie if we don't get a move on."  
  
"Kuso! You're right."  
  
************************************************************  
  
"Wait, they're hanging out now?" Chi-Chi groaned, curling in close to Krillin as they watched their usual Saturday cartoons together. Bulma never really liked it, and usually spent her Saturdays in the lab, only coming by when she had nothing else to do. But this Saturday she chose to be with Yamcha, over her best friends.  
  
"That's what she told me when I called," Krillin said. "'Sorry, can't make it. I'm spending the day with Yamcha.' Yamcha? I don't get it Chi. If you were Bulma, what would you do?"  
  
"First off, I'd never talk to the jerk again. I mean, sure, I understand the parents thing. Hell, I loved the Yosanos too. But to hang out with him when she could be hanging out with us? It burns!"  
  
"I know what you mean. When she told me I was like, wait a second, him over us? And she got sort of mad 'cause I asked her that. 'Well, Krillin, if you can't understand, then I don't see the use in explaining it to you.' You think she's still depressed? I mean, she was all summer, and then the thing with Vegeta brought her down really quick."  
  
"I'm worried about her too. Should we say something?"  
  
"I could help with that," came a voice from behind the two friends. They turned around to see Maris coming into the living room, carrying a homemade cake. "Your dad let me in Chi. Hope it's ok."  
  
"You brought cake. You could have stabbed my dad and I'd still let you in."  
  
"Really?"  
  
"Yes, really," she laughed, sitting up. She didn't know how awkward Maris would feel with her lounging all over Krillin. It was natural for them, having been friends since birth. But in front of someone who obviously liked him? She opted to run into the kitchen for a knife and some plates instead.  
  
"You bought a cake?" Krillin asked, patting the seat beside him, opposite of where Chi-Chi had been.  
  
"Nope. Baked it just twenty minutes ago. I bake when I'm bored. And then I decided to bring it here, since I remembered you guys mentioning about Saturday cartoon marathons. I tried your house first, but no one was home."  
  
"Hey, Maris, can I ask you something?"  
  
"Shoot."  
  
Krillin glanced back at the doorway Chi-Chi had run out, then, with a sly grin, began his secret request to his newfound friend.  
  
************************************************************  
  
Sen Miyahara walked leisurely through downtown Manhattan, her baby girl, Ryoko, napping peacefully in the stroller she was pushing. Every now and then some giddy New Yorker would stop and ogle at her child, though nothing more than a few "Ooo"s, and "My, what a gorgeous baby!", nothing that the new mother hadn't heard before. She knew her daughter was beautiful, though she always doubted her own looks, hiding behind the mask of her writing and creating an alternate universe for herself where she could be the one that always came out on top. Though the fact that she was married to none other than Vegeta Ouji of Green Dragon was not something she took lightly. It gave her otherwise non-existent ego a major boost, thus allowing her the strength she needed to gain means to continue as an author. With what she books brought in alone she made enough to keep steady, but she wanted something more, something that would ensure her survival for the rest of her and her daughter's lives. And lo and behold, Vegeta walks into a casino, already far too drunk to realize how vulnerable he could be, and, just like that, she had Green Dragon wrapped around her little finger.  
  
"Hello Jun, it's Sen." She was now at home, Ryoko down for a nap, and her nerves were shot. She needed a quick pick-me-up. "I'm fine, and how are you? Well, I was just thinking—" She paused for a moment to get her words straight. "When's the next time Vegeta's going to be in town? I would love to have a nice little dinner with him, at my home, of course. Don't want the media to find out about us, you know. Six months!? Why the hell so long!? I can't wait that long, Jun! Send me a plane ticket; I'm coming to Japan. No buts, miss, I will have what I want or your little group will be no more! I have no use for that damn noise-making nuisance, and I won't think twice about ruining their lives and yours in the process, so—Next week? Great. I'll be there. Thanks doll. Bye-bye."  
  
As she eased herself in front of her vanity mirror, a gaudy over-priced gold number, she felt an unmistakenable wave of nausea. She glanced at her tired, worn expression and closed her eyes, transporting herself back to a time when she didn't need to be superficial to be happy, when everything was perfect, when she only needed one thing to keep her happy: love.  
  
She sighed deeply and let her head fall onto her folded arms, giving way to tears.  
  
"Where are you Akio?"  
  
********************************************************  
  
"No!" Vegeta roared, nearly shaking the tour bus in his rage. "There is NO WAY in hell that I'm going to see THAT woman, EVER again! I've had enough of her to last a lifetime; I do NOT need any more headaches. How many more weeks do we have to tour? And then the new album! No! Shut up 18, I don't care what you have to say, I'm not doing it!"  
  
"If you don't see her, then Jun will drop us, plain and simple. She can't keep both of you under her reins at the same time, and Sen has nothing holding her back the way you do, so I suggest you toughen up and spend one evening with the damn woman." She shook her head, defeated, and turned away. "Who knows, it might do you some good."  
  
"How could you possibly believe something like that? You're an ignoramus. Get away from me."  
  
"It wouldn't hurt to meet your own daughter. Kami knows at least SHE deserves your company."  
  
Vegeta's fingers were digging painfully into 18's arms before she realized she was turned back around and facing him, his eyes glaring deep into her, as if the mere look of them could change her mind.  
  
"I will say this only ONE last time," he breathed, tightening his grip. "I am NOT a father. Is that clear?" He pushed her back forcefully, nearly knocking her over, and almost made it out of the room, when she lunged at him and brought him to the floor.  
  
After several minutes of struggle, he managed to gain the upper hand. He was now straddling her, his hands securing her wrists above her head.  
  
"You've ruined your life, you know that?" she whispered, her eyes beginning to well with tears, and for one moment Vegeta actually felt bad, for the first time in his life. 18 NEVER cried, and now, because of him, she was on the verge of it. It nearly made him sick to his stomach, and he almost let her go. "I've stood by you for years, Vegeta. I've defended you when all the others thought you were no good. But now…" she trailed off, turning her head to the side. "Now I don't know how you can ever fix what you've done to yourself, and I…I want so badly to turn my back on you. I hate you for making me care about you. I hate you for doing something to me that makes it impossible for me to ever hate you. And I hate myself for ever believing in you." She turned her head back to him, her eyes focused and glistening with tears. "I'll give you three months to change Vegeta. If you can't prove that there's even the smallest hint of a decent person in there then I'm leaving Green Dragon…Three months."  
  
His first reaction was to glare down at his friend, as if somehow trying to make her take back her words that hurt more than anything he'd experienced since his father's death. But, as he looked at her, he saw her brow begin to twitch and her lips begin to tense and release, and he knew, without a doubt, that she wasn't bluffing this time.  
  
Slowly, he eased himself off of her and sat on the floor, his eyes staring forward as if she weren't there. After a long while, she finally said, "I'm sorry Vegeta, but it's the only thing I can do that you'll listen to. Hell, I could throw myself off a damn building and die and all you'd worry about was the future of Green Drag—"  
  
"That's not true, 18," he mumbled under his breath.  
  
"Well," she sighed, picking herself up off the ground. "It's up to you to prove that."  
  
************************************************************  
  
Bulma pulled her head back, her breathing labored, her eyes hazy and unfocused. She blinked furiously then scrambled off her bed.  
  
"No, Yamcha," she panted as she raked her fingers through her disheveled hair. "We…can't. I just…no. You know we…"  
  
"I know," he sighed, sitting up, his naked chest almost more than she could take. How had they ended up in her room together? How could she have let this happen? "I'm sorry I…took advantage of you."  
  
"Took advantage of me?" she nearly yelled, finding her way back onto the bed. "How?"  
  
"Because, you were all upset about that Vegeta guy. When you kissed me I should have pushed you away. But instead, like an idiot, I thought, maybe, just maybe, she wants me again…I'm sorry. I should go."  
  
"No." She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pulled him in for a passionate kiss. "Just once more…I don't want to be alone right now."  
  
"But Bulma—"  
  
"Please Yamcha. I just…I can't…"  
  
"I love you Bulma," he whispered, then gave in to every urge he'd been feeling since the moment he'd picked her up that morning.  
  
**********************************************************  
  
All eyes were on Bulma and Yamcha as they entered Orange Star High School Monday morning. Especially those of Chi-Chi, Krillin, and Maris, who hadn't heard from her since early Saturday. They fought a mental battle with themselves, forcing their eyes to remain passive, their glares hidden under their fake smiles and mock waves. When she finally reached the group, after having dismissed Yamcha ten feet away, Chi-Chi was the first to speak.  
  
"You don't even need to tell us," she hissed bitterly, unable to keep her anger inside. The nerve of her to not call ALL weekend, and then show up with Yamcha, of all people, happy as can be. When she tried to speak, Chi-Chi was bordering on rage. "I can see it all over the both of you. You had sex with him, Bulma Briefs! After all that he's done to you, and you went ahead and threw away your dignity and self-respect for that worthless—"  
  
"Enough!" Bulma retaliated, her fists clenched at her sides. "I can understand you guys being upset that we didn't hang out all weekend, but to lash of at Yamcha, who didn't even do anything this time, it's just plain immature."  
  
"You're going to be the laughing stock of the entire school."  
  
"And that bothers you because, what, my behavior reflects you guys? Please, get your own identities, and stop trying to run my life by the book. I'm eighteen fucking years old; I can handle myself with a boy. I don't need Mama Chi-Chi to put me in line when I stray from Miss Perfect."  
  
"I am NOT like your mother!" Chi-Chi snapped, fighting every muscle in her body to stay planted in place.  
  
"No, of course you're not. That would mean you would understand and be supportive of MY own decisions."  
  
"I just don't understand," she sighed, trying desperately to curb her rapid breathing. Krillin and Maris looked on in utter terror. "How can you pick HIM over us?"  
  
"Because he's my friend too, Chi. Whether you like it or not," Bulma said with a heavy sigh. "I just wanted to make up for lost time this summer." When her best friend since diapers didn't respond, she weakly whispered, "Please don't hate me, Chi. I wouldn't be able to stand it if you weren't on board with this."  
  
"Well," she finally said, after what could have very well have been two minutes. "I think he at least deserved the time apart during the summer."  
  
A small smile on Bulma's lips told Maris that whatever Chi-Chi had said was her way of saying she wasn't mad anymore and that she would try to understand her friend's wishes from now on. "Ok," she thought as she scanned her new friends, who felt like family after only a week, "I can get the hang of this."  
  
*****************************************************************  
  
Ryoko giggled happily on Vegeta's lap, her cubby arms flung out to either side, as he bounced her on his knee, the way Sen had instructed him to do. He didn't get it. Why did everyone believe that this kid was his? Sure, he didn't mind her, she was cute in that way babies are always cute, and if it was his daughter then he wouldn't protest it, at all. But Sen had specifically been complaining the entire first night they met that she was pregnant and ditched by her former lover. So why didn't anyone believe him?  
  
Besides, Ryoko, beautiful as she was, didn't carry any of his features what so ever. Her hair was a deep auburn color, while his was black and Sen's was a still the striking blonde she was born with. And her eyes, large and green, didn't match those of his and Sen's which were both so dark they were nearly black. If only there were some consensual way to prove the child wasn't his. Sen had already disagreed to having a paternity test taken, and even if she had, the other band members, not to mention Jun, didn't think it was necessary. So, once again, Sen was coming out on top. Did they want to dig themselves deeper by attaching this woman to the band? He figured that with their behavior, they most certainly did.  
  
"Isn't she the most beautiful child in the world?" Sen asked, her motherly admiration just the right mix of creepy and over-bearing. She wanted Vegeta to love her as if it were his child, when she knew damn well that it was not.  
  
"She's cute," he muttered, though inside he agreed one hundred percent. If he ever had kids he would want them to be like Ryoko. It wasn't her fault that her father was a runaway low life and her mother was, well, Sen Miyahara.  
  
"I want you to be more involved in her life Vegeta. She needs—"  
  
"How can you ask me that?" he sneered, trying his hardest to keep his voice down so not to scare the innocent child. Who would have thought he'd be so caring towards children? "She's not my daughter, Sen, and you know that perfectly well. I wasn't as drunk as you thought I was. I was looking for a good fuck, and I didn't even really get that. So stop trying to pin this kid on me. I'm no coward. If she were mine, then I'd take care of her in a heartbeat, but she's not. Isn't the money enough?"  
  
"I need her to have a father figure Vegeta. She can't grow up the way I did. Even if it seems that mothers connect better with their daughters, I was still missing out. I won't have that for Ryoko."  
  
"Ah, so there is something to your past. I was beginning to think you were created souly to make my life a living hell. It's good to know Kami doesn't hate me THAT much."  
  
Sen wrinkled her nose at her one-night-stand and reached for her daughter. Vegeta handed her over without a moment's hesitation, feeling that his holding her at all was wrong. She wasn't his daughter, and he didn't even care about her mother, though he did feel bad for her. Poor baby, not having a chance being born into such psychotic-ness.  
  
"I can arrange a babysitter for her," he finally said after a long pause, in which he'd been contemplating to himself. "That's as much as I'll do. And it can be a male babysitter to give her the fatherly attention you want. But I am not going to lift another finger for you, is that clear? I know my career could recover from a scandal like you, but you have the others blinded, and until they can see clearly, they're stuck with paying you ridiculous amounts of money for no reason. But I'll have no part with you."  
  
"Once every other month. That's all I ask," she nearly whimpered, having just set Ryoko in her playpen for a nap. "I'll even sign a waver. If I ask for more, I'm out of the money and I can't sue you."  
  
Vegeta narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms. Why did he let himself get involved with women like this? That was the whole purpose of one-night-stands, to not have to deal with a nagging woman down his back all the time.  
  
"I pick the day."  
  
"Sounds fair."  
  
"I'll have Jun stop by your hotel room tonight or tomorrow."  
  
"Alright."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Why what?" She arched an eyebrow at him, her arms falling to her sides.  
  
"Why do you want to see me? You hate me, and vice versa."  
  
"I told you, its for Ryoko…and…well…"  
  
"Yeah," he groaned as he pulled off his shirt. Even if she was the most annoying woman he'd ever met he couldn't deny his attraction to her. She was by far one of the sexiest women he'd had the pleasure of taking to bed, though, sadly, not the sexiest woman he'd ever seen. She was yet to be branded by him, but he wasn't about to give up on her. Someday he would know Bulma Briefs, and when he did, he'd have his prize. With a smirk he lifted Sen off the ground and tossed her onto the bed. "This better be worth my time."  
  
***************************************************************  
  
---Chapter 9!! Ok, there are a few things I want to say about this fic. One, Bulma did NOT beg Yamcha into bed with her, and it was not because she was desperate. Her and Yamcha have a lot of history together, and she was comfortable with him, and needed to be comforted by someone, and he was there. And she's not a slut for that, because of the history and whatnot…Second, How do you people like Maris? Any better now? :D  
  
REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (Reviews=More Chapters!!!)  
  
Next time: Its vacation time for Green Dragon…what could happen? ;) It's so big, even I don't know!!!! 


	10. Townsend

Last time:  
  
"I told you, its for Ryoko…and…well…"  
  
"Yeah," he groaned as he pulled off his shirt. Even if she was the most annoying woman he'd ever met he couldn't deny his attraction to her. She was by far one of the sexiest women he'd had the pleasure of taking to bed, though, sadly, not the sexiest woman he'd ever seen. She was yet to be branded by him, but he wasn't about to give up on her. Someday he would know Bulma Briefs, and when he did, he'd have his prize. With a smirk he lifted Sen off the ground and tossed her onto the bed. "This better be worth my time."  
  
***************************************************  
  
"What time?" she asked, holding the phone tenderly to her ear, her eyes hazy with those usual teenage feelings of young love.  
  
"What time are you free?" came his reply. His voice had just the right mixture of depth and confidence, along with a sort of childhood innocence that still shined through, giving it the perfect "to die for" timbre. If she hadn't been so caught up in it, she might have sensed his nervousness, which would have significantly lessened her own.  
  
"Well, its only Wednesday," she sighed. "School gets out at 3:00 tomorrow, and my curfew is 10:00 during the week. Damn, I sound so juvenile, talking about school nights and stuff. You probably don't have to deal with such things when you go on dates."  
  
"Its not a problem at all," he laughed. "And I don't really date. I've been out on a few blind dates set up by 17, and they never work out. You're…" He drifted off as though he'd said something foolish or wrong, and she realized suddenly that he was embarrassed.  
  
"Yes?" she urged him on.  
  
"You're the first girl I've really ever wanted to see more than once."  
  
"Well," she said, trying to keep the fluttering in her stomach at bay. "You can see me as many times as you want, starting tonight if you'd like. I'm not busy."  
  
"Alright." He let out a long breath, of which he didn't realize he'd been holding, then said, "I'll pick you up in twenty minutes."  
  
"Great. See you then. Bye."  
  
"Bye."  
  
As she set down the phone, she couldn't help the squeal that escaped her lips, nearly scaring her friends into fits.  
  
"Chi!" Bulma cried, whose head had collided with Krillin's as they both jumped in their seats on the couch. "Don't do that!"  
  
"Sorry." She gave them both apologetic looks, then turned and ran towards her room to prepare for her date.  
  
"Remember!!" Krillin called, still nursing his bump. "He doesn't like flashy girls!!"  
  
"I know!" she hollered back. "But that doesn't mean I have to look like I've been lazing around with my friends all afternoon!"  
  
"But you have!"  
  
"Shut up, Krill!"  
  
"Wow, you guys sound close," Maris laughed as she entered the room, bearing the bowl of popcorn she'd insisted on retrieving. "Date with Goku?" she asked as she sat beside Bulma, giving Krillin a small, private smile.  
  
"Of course. What else would get her so worked up?"  
  
"Does this mean we have to take our loser party some place else?"  
  
"Loser party?" Bulma snorted playfully, then, "Nah. Doesn't matter if she's here or not. Her dad thinks we're family anyway. Or at least he treats us like it. 'Bulma, do the dishes, will you?' Sometimes it doesn't always work out for the best though."  
  
Five minutes later, in record timing, Chi-Chi came bounding down the stairs, her hair pulled back in its usual ponytail, her body clad in a plain red tee-shirt and blue jeans cut off at the knees; plain white tennis shoes.  
  
"Man," Bulma laughed. "The more we hang out, the more you look like me."  
  
"Well, I took your advice. You were right, I don't need to dress like everyday is a fashion show. No one's judging me on what I wear, well, not REALLY. And who cares if people at school do, they're not important to me, and if the people that are important can't get past a designer dress, then I don't want those people in my life."  
  
"Bravo!" Bulma declared as she encased her friend in a bear hug. "I couldn't have said it better myself." Then a playful smile curled at her lips, her ears having picked up the sound of a closing door and a dying engine. "You're sure you want to go? I mean, we're gonna watch Monty Python. It's one of your faves."  
  
"I'll tell you what. If I stay home with you guys, then you have to go on another date wi—"  
  
"Enough said. Enjoy." She took a step aside and let Chi-Chi pass, nearly toppling her over as she ran to the door, only to stop and fix her hair before she opened it, feigning calm.  
  
"Hey Goku. Where're you taking me?"  
  
"Your choice," he said, trying to force his smile from growing any bigger. The last thing he wanted to do was scare her off by being overly excited to see her. They're barely just met, and he felt somewhat ashamed of being so taken by her.  
  
"Well then, I'd have to say…" She brought her hand to her mouth in the usual position one takes when in deep thought. Then she turned to her friends and said, "Dynasty Galaxy is still open right? I haven't been there in forever."  
  
"Yeah," Krillin answered around a mouthful of popcorn. "I just went there a week ago."  
  
"With who?"  
  
"Some friends."  
  
"Who?"  
  
"Chi," he laughed. "I have other friends besides you guys. No one I'd hang out with over you, of course, but other friends. Guy friends. People I can talk to about other stuff I can't with a bunch of girls."  
  
"Well I'll be, little Krill is sprouting wings and growing up," Bulma cooed in his ear as she mockingly snuggled up against him. "My little man."  
  
Bulma wouldn't have had time to react, even if she knew what was coming. And now, as she sat, stunned, and covered in buttery popcorn, all she could do was laugh, throwing scattered pieces at Krillin, and then Maris when she too started to laugh.  
  
"The people I associate with," Chi-Chi fake groaned. "Bye you guys! We're leaving!"  
  
"Bye Chi! Have fun!"  
  
"Yeah! And use protection!"  
  
"Shut up Krillin!"  
  
"Hey! Let go of my head!"  
  
"Ow! You got popcorn in my eye!"  
  
"Hey! What're you—" And then the noises of her friends were completely inaudible as she shut the door and made for Goku's car. Nothing flashy. Green in color. Four doors. Sun roof. Ordinary.  
  
"So, what's this Dynasty place?" he asked once behind the wheel. "Sounds like an arcade."  
  
"And here I thought you were just a great bass player," she laughed. "Yes, it's an arcade, with laser tag."  
  
"Kuso!" He swore before he could stop himself and nearly ran down her mailbox. "Kami, how have I been living my life without you?"  
  
A deep blush crept onto her cheeks and she only nodded.  
  
She'd been thinking the exact same thing.  
  
*************************************************************  
  
"I just don't like the girl, ok?" 18 grumbled, picking at her peanut butter cup. She had several packages in front of her, but at the mention of Maris, suddenly lost her appetite.  
  
"But how?" 17 asked, almost pleadingly. "I don't get it. She's a great girl. If I weren't so caught up in the band, I'd consider getting a little closer with her. Dates are great, fine for now, but someday I want a relationship with a girl, and I think Maris is just the type for that. Well, either her or Bulma."  
  
"Because, 17, she's vicious. You just can't see it because you're so clouded by your lower brain's thoughts. And I don't care how nice and sweet she is to you, I'm telling you, she has it in for me. And you know how I am with people who get under my skin."  
  
"You're not going to beat her up, are you?" He grimaced at the thought, thinking of the last person who was unlucky enough to make her angry. Him. He could still feel the long gone bruises and his nose would never quite be straight again. Since then he's made it a point to never upset her when it wasn't worth the fight. "'Cause I mean, I love ya sis, but if you're going to go after a girl and not even tell me what she did, then I'm gonna have to step in, and you know how much I'd hate to do that."  
  
"I know," she laughed, bitterly, turning her head to the side. "How do you breath out of your nose?"  
  
"I manage," he stated simply, then, eagerly, he asked, "Please, tell me. What did she do?"  
  
"She challenged me."  
  
He waited for her to continue. She didn't.  
  
"Challenged you?" 18 nodded. "How? I've been with you every time you've seen her."  
  
"She didn't have to say a thing. I knew exactly what she was thinking. You know, little bro, actions more than not speak louder than words. And her actions were deliberate."  
  
"You don't know that I'm younger than you, so stop calling me 'little bro'. And when the hell did all this happen? From across a room?"  
  
"More or less. It was when we went bowling. She…"  
  
"She what?"  
  
"Forget it. I'm not going to beat her up, that is, unless she comes at me first. So stop worrying. I need to get going anyway. I'm meeting with Sen for dinner."  
  
"Sen?"  
  
"Yeah. She's got a proposition for me and I'm just bored enough that I'll hear it." She leaned over and gave him a quick kiss on the check, then stood. "Don't worry lil' bro. I'll tell you all about it when I get back." She headed for the door, ignoring his groans as she'd called him his hated nickname again. And, as she was pulling on her knee-length jacket, said, "And one more thing, kid. If you want a relationship then pick the right girl to have one with. It won't matter that you're in a band and travel all over the country. If she's right, she'll understand, and you'll know when she's right. Just don't make the mistake of waiting for your career to slow down before you start looking, 'cause you might just walk right by her."  
  
"Insightful," he murmured, looking at the table they'd been seated at, wondering how in the name of Kami he would know, without a doubt, who was the right girl for him. "Thanks sis."  
  
"No problem. Oh, and don't mention this to Vegeta. He still thinks I'm a hard ass."  
  
"Sure thing. But don't you make the mistake either. If that's what this thing with Maris is about, and don't think I don't know you like the little bald dude, then you have my blessing to fight her for him, and I don't mean physically."  
  
"Man, you really like raining on my parade?"  
  
"What're brothers for?"  
  
***************************************************************  
  
Vegeta walked dismally through the rainy streets of Satan City, the collar of his coat pulled up just far enough to conceal his identity. His hair was matted down slightly from the rain, but his appearance was the last thing on his mind. He could still taste her lips, feel her soft skin under his hands, smell the sweet perfume that was a woman in the heat of a moment. So why—with those senses for sensitive, so very fresh—could he only think of a different woman with shining aqua locks and a fiery passion that rivaled his own?  
  
He continued on, though, as if he were destined for a certain point, as if his feet were guiding him to a specific place when really he only wanted to clear his head. Why was it that when you wanted so badly to think of nothing, that all you could think about were the most troubling thoughts?  
  
A screaming mother with three tantrum-throwing children brushed by him, bringing him to a halt in front of an antique shop. He looked around and realized suddenly that he'd passed into Townsend, a small section of the city that was cut off from the rest, displaying old buildings and an old way of life. All the stores weren't really stores as he was used to, but tiny shops, like the one he stopped in front of, each bearing a hanging sign in cursive lettering. He felt as though he'd been thrown back a few centuries, aside from the obvious fact that everyone around him was wearing modern clothes. But big blue mailboxes? Evenly sectioned cement sidewalks? Cars? No, not even cars were permitted into this mock village. A road went right around it that cars were allowed on. But the cobble-stoned street he'd been unknowingly walking on? Never.  
  
He was about to turn around and head back towards the hotel, when on pure impulse, he walked into the antique shop. It was what one would think to find in the normal consignment shop; antique tables and chairs and all sorts of things that seemed to grow dust, rather than be buried in it. Each tiny side room was filled with related objects. One room housed strictly children's toys, while another was dedicated to kitchen wear, and still another to clothes and hats and gloves. And then, directly after a room full of paintings, those huge wall sized ones, and some small enough to fit in your palm, Vegeta entered an antique library, complete with a ladder to slide along the shelves.  
  
He didn't much like to read. A certain few books made their way into his life that he actually liked, and re-read, countless times. But he was by no means a reader. He liked the look of all the broken and brittle bindings sticking out with their faded colors and Kami knows what kinds of stains.  
  
"Looking for something inparticular?" came a high womanly voice from the next room. A small middle-aged woman went scurrying by the doorway, her arms full of boxes. When she entered the room a moment later, her hair was askew, though she didn't seem to notice. "I cataloged every item that's come and gone in this place myself. If you want I could give you a list of the books we have as of now, if you don't mind sloppy handwriting and the disappointment of seeing what you wanted already crossed off my list."  
  
"Sure," was all he said, his eyes still on the relics before him, scanning the bindings for certain names he was familiar with.  
  
"Here you are, young man." She handed him a bulky leather-bound book, then hurried out of the room and down the hall, as though he were about to throw it back at her.  
  
Out of sheer boredom, and in need of something to keep his mind off his problems, he scanned the crinkled and sometimes torn pages, finding nothing to his taste. And then, just as he was about to close it and leave, his eyes fell on the most unusual of names: Anzai Anzai. He knew next to nothing about the man, whose name he only heard a few times from his mother/tutor. He was born in the early 1400s in Japan, lived in London for a great deal of his life, then Paris, and then came home to Japan to die, having written thirty-three books total, so far as anyone knew.  
  
His finger ran along the entry with Anzai Anzai's name, stopping at the book's title. His mother loved this man's work, and could list all of his books, of which she own, but he knew he'd remember if she'd said this name.  
  
"Through the Eyes of the Blue-Haired Goddess," he said aloud.  
  
"So, I see you're an Anzai fan, huh?" The small woman was in the room again, one hand clutching a bag of what appeared to be furniture polish and old rags. "I love him myself. That book, there on the list, is one of four original copies made. I own two, and so I put one up for sale. There are other paper back modern versions of it, though its not as widely known as his other works. You do know how he died, right?"  
  
Vegeta shook his head. No. His mother never mentioned that.  
  
"He was beheaded by his lovely wife. He traveled the world, lived in many different countries, and always bringing his wife and children along with him. But, then he wrote this book—" She pointed to the entry on the page. "—his last, and his wife was furious."  
  
"I take it the Blue-Haired Goddess wasn't his wife?"  
  
"Nope. He loved Hisa, his wife, dearly, but his true love, this Blue-Haired woman, was who the book was about, and for that he lost his life. She told him straight out what she planned to do, and all he asked was that he be able to die in his home country."  
  
"How much?"  
  
The woman balked at his question.  
  
"Well?" He was beginning to grow annoyed. The room was stuffy, he was soaking wet, and she was going on and on about some guy that died centuries ago. Although, he had to admit, he was slightly intrigued by the guy.  
  
"I'm sorry. You look like you must be eighteen. How can you afford such a thing?"  
  
"Just give me your price. I'm sure its well within my spending limit."  
  
"Eight hundred thousand," she stated matter-of-factly. He didn't flinch.  
  
"Is a check ok? My credit cards can't hold that much dough."  
  
"Do you actually think I'd let you walk out of here with my book and a teenagers' check? You can't be serious."  
  
"Fine," he sighed, reaching into his pocket. He pulled out his wallet and retrieved a stack of bills, all hundreds. "One, two, three, four…That's three thousand dollars for a down payment, and the rest I'll put on the check. Now can I have it?"  
  
"Your parents must really love you."  
  
"Its my money, lady. Now get the book."  
  
"If you weren't so rude, I'd laugh at that little joke."  
  
"You really think I'm joking?" She nodded. "Do you have kids?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"How old?"  
  
"I have a daughter, about your age."  
  
"Perfect. Call her, now."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Just call her. I want to prove something to you."  
  
Irritated, the woman pulled a cellular phone from her pocket and dialed seven numbers.  
  
"Hey, Maya, it's your mom."  
  
"Ask her who her favorite band is."  
  
"What's your favorite band, dear?" She listened for a moment, then covered the mouthpiece and said, "Green Dragon. What's this have to do with anything?"  
  
"Ask her who her favorite member is."  
  
"She said some guy named Vegeta."  
  
Vegeta smiled. That's exactly what he'd been expecting.  
  
"Perfect. Bye bye Maya."  
  
"I'll see you when I get home later, hun. Bye." She hung up the phone then glared angrily at her customer. "What the hell is wrong with you?"  
  
"You got a camera?"  
  
"Kami. You're the worst sell I've ever had. Yes, I have a damn camera."  
  
"Ok. Take my picture, show it to your daughter. If she doesn't squeal or faint then I'll bring the book back, and you can keep the cash."  
  
"Who the hell are you?"  
  
His lips curled into a devilish grin.  
  
"I'm Vegeta."  
  
**********************************************************  
  
---Chapter 10!! Yes! Yay! Woohoo! I know, I know. Not much happened, but there is a purpose to this chapter. Even the scene with Vegeta in the antique store. It'll all make sense in a few chapters, I promise!!!  
  
REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (Reviews=More Chapters)  
  
Next time: Vegeta and Bulma have another encounter????  
  
Note: Remember, even though I'm obsessed with Bulma and Vegeta, and this fic is mostly about them, it's also about the other couples too. 


	11. Unexpected

Last time:  
  
His lips curled into a devilish grin.  
  
"I'm Vegeta."  
  
00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000  
  
A small halogen lamp shined a circle of light in the otherwise dark room, casting ugly shadows on the floor and walls. But he wasn't paying any attention to such things. The object before him had all his attention; he was in a complete trance. Ever since he'd brought that book home from the antique shop, happening to open it for a glance, he'd been immersed, ignoring all phone calls and knocks at the door; his mother.  
  
"Vegeta," came her voice again through the wood. "There's a girl on the phone for you. Says it's important."  
  
He didn't respond. Kami, if only he'd known before what a great writer Anzai Anzai was! And the illustrations in the margins! He wasn't what you'd call an art fan, but he knew what he liked, and this he loved.  
  
"Vegeta, come on. You've been avoiding the phone for the past two days. Your agent keeps calling, and so do your friends. Just talk to this girl at least."  
  
"Who is it?" he asked dryly, barely able to keep his eyes off the page.  
  
"Says her name is Maris."  
  
He arched an eyebrow, then climbed off his bed and answered the door.  
  
"What're you reading?" his mother inquired when she noticed the heavy, old book.  
  
"Nothing you know about," he remarked, shutting the door. "Yeah?"  
  
"Hey Veg-a-licious," came Maris' voice through the phone. "Got a minute?"  
  
"No."  
  
"A second?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Come on."  
  
"How did you get my number?"  
  
"17."  
  
"Asshole."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Nothing. What do you want?"  
  
"A favor."  
  
"No."  
  
"Just hear me out." Silence. "Ok, Krillin asked me the other day to help him throw a surprise party for Chi-Chi, and of course Bulma is helping too, but what I need from you is silence. I think Goku would tell her, and 17 is a big mouth, and 18, well—"  
  
"You hate her?"  
  
"I do not," she insisted, maybe a little too forcefully. "Anyway, I could really use your help with everything, mainly getting 17, 18, and Goku there without them knowing there's a party, you know?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"So you'll help me?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Come o—"  
  
"Damn fool," he muttered as he set the phone on his nightstand, then resumed reading.  
  
0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000  
  
"So he won't come out of his room? Not even for Jun?" Goku asked around a mouthful of gummi bears.  
  
"No one. He's been locked up there for three days. I really think something serious is wrong."  
  
"Oh come on 18," he sighed. "He's fine. You know him, when he gets busy with his music he doesn't stop for anyone. I don't think its anything to worry about, but we can stop by there later if you like."  
  
"Yeah, that'd be good," she said, her voice drifting. Even when he did get fully immersed in his music he still had time for her phone calls. What on earth could have all his attention?  
  
"18?"  
  
"Hmm?"  
  
"You dropped your sandwich." He pointed to it on the floor, giving a small, sad smile. "He's fine. I promise. But come on, you need to help me with this. I'm such a moron about my taxes."  
  
"You should just hire someone to do them for you." She bent over and retrieved her lost meal, tossing it on her plate and pushing it aside. "You have the money."  
  
"Yeah, I know. But I trust you more. Besides, it's a breeze for you."  
  
"Why do you have to do them now, again?"  
  
"Every half year," he yawned, bored out of his mind by all the paper work. "I used to have it that way when I had summer jobs, and I just always liked it better."  
  
"You're weird."  
  
"Thanks," he laughed. "But seriously. Help me!"  
  
00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000  
  
Vegeta stared, completely dumbfounded, at the sight before him. Goku lay sprawled out on his bedroom floor, on top of his door, having successfully broken down, and 18 stood in the hall, her entire manner telling him a lot more was on her mind besides a broken door.  
  
"You people," he finally said, setting his book on the bed. "When someone tells you to go away listen. Kami. Now I have to get another door. Thanks."  
  
"Shut up, Vegeta," 18 hissed, the venom in her voice unquestionable. She stepped into the room, over Goku's body, and right up to Vegeta. Goku groaned on the floor and rolled over. "Do you have any idea how worried I was about you? Not taking my calls, huh? What the hell have you been doing in here?"  
  
He didn't flinch.  
  
"Well?"  
  
"Reading," he said, motioning to the book on the bed. "I got into it. Kami…"  
  
"Reading?"  
  
He nodded.  
  
"Fuck you." She turned on her heels, grabbing Goku up off the floor as she went. "You're an asshole, you know that? I'm worried sick about you for days and you can't even give me a straight answer as to what you were doing! Uh! That is so…so…so like you! No wonder you can't get a girlfriend. You drive all women away. I bet you couldn't get one girl to date you for more than a month. Hell! I bet you can't get to the second date!…Call me when you grow up."  
  
Again Vegeta was left dumbfounded, staring this time at an empty doorway, 18's words still ringing in his ears.  
  
"I accept your challenge," he said into the air, then hopped back on his bed to finish reading. Thirty more pages to go and he was done.  
  
0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000  
  
"That sounds like a date to me," Bulma said, just a hint of contempt in her voice.  
  
"It's not, trust me," came the voice at the other end of the line.  
  
"And how isn't it?"  
  
"We're going shopping for party crap. I don't take dates to the store. It's not a date."  
  
"I don't know. Why are you doing this again? It doesn't make sense, you barely know Chi-Chi, you barely know any of us."  
  
"I have my reasons," he insisted. "Are you coming or not?"  
  
Silence.  
  
"Well?"  
  
"Y-Yeah…" she managed to squeeze out. "When are you coming to get me?"  
  
"I'm in your driveway," came his sly reply.  
  
"And what if I said no?" She crept towards the window and pulled back the curtain, nearly startled when she saw his car exactly where he said it was, him sitting on the hood, phone to his ear, and looking directly at her.  
  
"I knew you wouldn't."  
  
"How?"  
  
"I just did. Now hurry up, I don't have all day."  
  
"You're an ass, Vegeta," she sighed.  
  
"So I've been told."  
  
000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000  
  
"Hold still!" Bulma snapped, smacking Vegeta on the head. "I can't reach if you keep wobbling like that!"  
  
"Well if you didn't weigh a ton, I'd be able to hold you up," he groaned, trying in dismay to keep her up on his shoulders.  
  
"Got it!" she cheered, and nearly went tumbling to the ground. Vegeta caught her at the last second, his arms tightly around her waist, their faces inches apart. "Thanks," she murmured, tossing the extra large package of bulk peanut butter cups into the cart. "I don't get why they put something so big and heavy so high up."  
  
"Yeah," he said smoothly, brushing his hand along her stomach as he turned to grab the cart and resume shopping. "I still think getting those are a bad idea." They turned the corner, nearly running into an angry older woman with an armful of rice cakes.  
  
"Why? It'll keep Krillin quiet for most of the night," she laughed. "I figure we should get everyone their favorite food and that way no one can complain. Easy."  
  
"I thought one of the points of this get-together was so our 'groups' could get to know each other. 18 won't talk to anyone while she's stuffing her face with those things."  
  
"She likes 'em too, eh?" She gave him a sly smile, then dumped six boxes of gummi bears and gummi worms into the cart. "For Goku."  
  
"How do you know he likes those?"  
  
"Every time I turned around he had a bag full of them. I have eyes you know."  
  
"Woman..."  
  
"Bulma."  
  
It was another hour before Bulma and Vegeta finally emerged from the grocery store, pushing a cartload of junk food and over-done cardboard party favors. Ten minutes into the drive back, Bulma realized they weren't headed for her house.  
  
"Where are we going, Vegeta?" This was nowhere near her neighborhood. They were almost on the other side of the city.  
  
"My house," came his words, as crisp and confident as though they were rehearsed. Bulma guessed that they were. "Why? Can't handle being with a rock star for too long?"  
  
"No," she retorted, turning to look back out the window. "I can't stand being with a jackass for too long."  
  
"Ooow. Good one. You're not afraid to say what's on your mind, are you?" She gave him a questioning glance. "I take that as a yes. I figured as much in the first five minutes of meeting you. Why do you think I didn't protest to the date?"  
  
"Stop it."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Trying to win me over, or whatever you're doing. It's not going to work. I'm not going to be another one of your whores." She crossed her arms uncomfortably and tried not to look over at him. "Take me home, please."  
  
"Kami," he sighed, turning on his right blinker and coming to a stop at a red light. "You think you're so tough, don't you?"  
  
"Don't you?"  
  
"Yes, I like to think I'm stronger than the average person. But you, you really believe it, that you're better than everyone and you can just say whatever the hell you want and no one will think twice because you're Princess of Capsule Corp."  
  
"That is NOT who I am at all, Vegeta!" she hissed, forgetting her previous request to go home. "Besides, who are you to talk? You walk around sporting this suave Kami's-gift-to-women attitude when really you're just a lost little boy who's too scared to admit that he's been heartbroken ever since his dad died. You're so concerned about not wanting others to think you care that you forget to have real feelings and remember that other people do too. Do you even think before you jump into bed with at least half the women you doop? I bet if you gave at least one of them a second glance you may see something you didn't the first time, you know, like her face."  
  
"'You're so cold'," he sighed, shaking his head. "'You speak so powerfully your mind and yet you have no voice for the woman that you truly are inside. Your soul screams to be released into the world, but ah, with you as the prison guard, she has no chance and must remain locked away in that cold cell of a heart.'"  
  
Bulma blinked hard, then stared at Vegeta as though he'd just shot someone in front of her.  
  
"Holy Kami," she gasped under her breath. "Anzai. The Silent Paradise of Belinda's Heart."  
  
"The one and only," he sighed, almost tiredly. "Just started to read him. Good writer, that guy."  
  
"Excuse me, but I don't see YOU reading someone like Anzai Anzai. He's too…too…"  
  
"Archaic?…Symbolic?…Revolutionary?"  
  
"Too good for you," she finally managed, curling her nose. She wasn't about to let his little show of knowledge appear to have the effect it actually did. "Take me home."  
  
"I don't think you'll want to go home."  
  
"And what makes you say that?"  
  
"Well, at first I thought it was because I'm so unbelievably sexy that you can't bear to be without me, but then I realized I wasn't vain and self-involved, and, of course, you picked up on the little Anzai thing, so I have something to show you."  
  
"I'm not interested."  
  
"I think you might be."  
  
"Try me."  
  
"You first," he challenged, leaning close to her. Bulma nearly leaned in too, but at the last second jumped back and looked around almost frantically. "We stopped."  
  
"Awhile ago," he laughed. "Come on. I swear that if you're not satisfied then I'll never bother you again."  
  
"Why are you bothering me in the first place?"  
  
He reached over and gently pushed some hair away from Bulma's face, lightly touching her cheek in the process and sending cold chills up her spine.  
  
"Is it so hard to believe that I can actually want to just spend time with a girl? That my main goal at the end of the day isn't to bang whoever is within a five mile radius?"  
  
She stared into his eyes for a long moment, as if memorizing the flecks of color and the way the minimal sunlight seemed to dance and make his eyes wholly more spectacular than they already were.  
  
"Sometimes," she finally said. She unbuckled her seatbelt and climbed out of the car, silently telling him that she would accompany him inside. He followed suit. "But you can't blame me after all I've read about you and what your friends told me. You're quite the man whore."  
  
"Guilty as charged. But why do I have to be only that?" he all but demanded. "The damn tabloids are so hell-bent about on getting a good scandal that they forget they're writing about an actual person. It's bullshit what they say. Assholes…"  
  
"But isn't that true about the girls you sleep with? Don't you treat them as, excuse my language, just a good lay?"  
  
"Not always. Depends on how they feed my intellectual palate, though most are starved themselves."  
  
Bulma let out a small laugh and grabbed Vegeta's wrist.  
  
"Come on, I can't wait to meet your mother."  
  
"Oh kuso…"  
  
00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000  
  
"18 here," 18 said as she picked up her cell phone. "Say something before I hang up."  
  
"Hello, you don't know me," came a male voice, "but I'm friends with Bulma Briefs." He paused.  
  
"Keep going. You're doing good so far."  
  
"I need your help, to make her happy, that is. I have this…plan, and I think, well, I know it'll work if I could only get some information from you."  
  
"Ah, so that's what you want, info? Well, umm, whoever the hell you are, I can't help you there. I don't know a thing about the girl. I like her, don't get me wrong, but I don't know her all that well yet."  
  
"My name's Yamcha."  
  
Silence.  
  
"I take it she's told you about me."  
  
"You've been mentioned," she squeezed out, swallowing hard. "But what kind of information can I give you? And what's all this about?"  
  
"Well—"  
  
"Wait, hold that thought. I don't even know you, kid. Look, I'll tell you what. I've seen a picture of you. Meet me at the café in Townsend, I'll come over to you, and we'll go from there, ok?"  
  
"Wow, I thought I'd need a lot more convincing than that. You don't even know me."  
  
"I know, but I know Bulma, sort of. Well, I know her enough to know that right now she's not happy. She needs something, and since you know her well, I think you could have a pretty good idea as to what can help her. I'm not one for charity work, but I genuinely like this chick. She's cool. I want to get to know her better, blah, blah, you know?"  
  
"Tomorrow at seven?"  
  
"It's a date stranger boy."  
  
00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000  
  
---Chapter 11! There you go, enjoy :) Hope everyone liked it. I've made a little more progress, but, as you know (I think), I'm one to take my stories slowly. I don't like to rush into things. I think it's more realistic that way. But enough of what I think, what do you think?  
  
REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (Reviews=More Chapters)  
  
Next time: What the hell could Yamcha want with 18? And what's this? Vegeta and Bulma getting along? There is a god! :P  
  
Note: Don't mind the Vegeta mushy-ness. It'll all be explained in due time, unless you've figured it out, that is :P 


	12. The Spark

Last time:  
  
"Tonight at seven?" (Yes, I know, I changed it. But it goes better with the story).  
  
"It's a date stranger boy."  
  
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
Vegeta crept through the foyer and into the hall, pulling Bulma along with him, his other hand clamped over her mouth. He knew for a fact that his mother was in the living room, just around the corner, and that if he made it to his room, he'd be home free.  
  
But, unbeknownst to him, Bulma wasn't about to make it that easy. Just as they were about to reach the stairs, she slammed her foot down on his, causing him to let out a tremendous yowl of pain. His glare was sufficient in expressing his anger for her, and he stomped upstairs to his room, just missing the entrance of his mother at the other end of the hall.  
  
"Hello," the dark-haired woman said, an impossible-to-hide smile stretched across her features. "You must be Bulma."  
  
"What makes you say that?" she replied, crossing her arms uncomfortably across her hoodie-clad chest, all the while thinking that she must look like crap compared to what Vegeta usually brings home.  
  
Mrs. Ouji held up a tabloid, plastered with images of her and Vegeta at The Lion's Den. One picture showed her flipping off the camera as Vegeta dragged her away, and another caught her angry face as the reporters insisted on shoving video cameras in her face. None were flattering, and all had captions that proclaimed her and Vegeta's love.  
  
"Wow," Bulma finally laughed, a little more at ease. "I didn't know we were married. We moved faster than I thought."  
  
"So you two are dating?" she asked hopefully, the tabloid rolled tightly in her hands.  
  
"No, just getting to know each other, you know?" Mrs. Ouji nodded, though inside she wondered how Vegeta ever came across a girl who didn't want to end up in his bed. For, as much as she didn't want to believe the tabloids, she knew there was truth in there somewhere. "That was our first and only date, in the tabloid I mean. My friend Maris challenged Vegeta on a video game and bet that if she won he'd have to go on a date with me, without my permission, of course. So I agreed. No offense, but he can be a real pain sometimes."  
  
"Oh sweety," she laughed. "You don't know the half of it. But I'm sure you want to get going to see him, so I'll let you alone." She turned to leave, but as she approached the entrance to the living room, turned back around and said, "You really should come by more often. I'd really love to get to know you."  
  
"I'd love that," Bulma squeezed out, only releasing a breath when she was gone. "Oh Kami," she sighed, ascending the stairs, wondering all the while why she felt the need to impress this woman that she barely knew.  
  
"What took you so long?" Vegeta grumbled, as Bulma entered his room, knowing his door at the first glance; it was painted black. "I hope you weren't talking to my mother. She'll brainwash you."  
  
"She was just showing me some baby pictures of you."  
  
Vegeta's face immediately paled.  
  
"I'm kidding!" she laughed, patting his knee as she took a seat beside him on his bed. "Geez, you looked like you were going to faint or something. She only wanted to know who I was."  
  
"Right…"  
  
"She asked if we were dating."  
  
He gave her a look as if you say, "Well, what did you tell her?"  
  
"I said no, of course. She seemed surprised when I said we were getting to know each other. I mean, I know it's bullshit, but I didn't think she would."  
  
"That's because she knows how I am," he sighed, falling back on his pillows, his hands beneath his head.  
  
"You don't mean…?"  
  
"Yes," he confirmed matter-of-factly. "I have no secrets from that woman…She must have almost had a heart attack when she realized you weren't 'just a screw' as everyone likes to say."  
  
"Then what am I?"  
  
Instead of answering, Vegeta reached beneath his bed and pulled out a large rectangular object wrapped in what looked like a sheet.  
  
"Well?"  
  
"I think you'd like this," he said, handing her the hidden object.  
  
Carefully, she unfolded the fabric, revealing a dusty brown book with intricately detailed designs and drawings of flowers, animals, and women; no men. No wait, it was all one woman. A woman with blue hair, like hers.  
  
She turned it over in her hands, examining all the corners and the spine, though it bore no name or title or any indication of what the book was. But, as soon as she opened it, her eyes nearly bulged from her head, as the name inside was one she knew, and loved.  
  
"Holy kuso!" she swore, jumping off the bed, her hands tightly securing the book to her chest. "I've heard about this book! But no one has it…ever! Holy Kami!…Kuso! Oh Kami…" She turned it over and over in her hands, then looked up at him, her eyes wider still, if that were possible. "This…this is an original," she gasped. "There are only four originals he did himself and this is one of them! Kami! Where did you get this!?"  
  
"An antique shop, the other day. Just kind of wandered in there. It's in Townsend. Cost me a couple of pennies, too."  
  
"How much?" Her eyes still hadn't reached their normal size.  
  
"Eight hundred—" Bulma gasped. "—thousand."  
  
"Kuso! Damn! You must really love Anzai to buy this for that much."  
  
"Not when I bought it. That's the first book I read. Pretty good actually. Didn't think it would be, the way my mother raves about it."  
  
"Your mother likes Anzai?" She nearly tumbled to the floor, though caught herself at the last second and sank onto the bed. "Kami, this is too much. Let me think for a minute."  
  
Vegeta only rolled his eyes and grabbed for the other Anzai book he was in the process of reading; Magnolia's Slaughter. After a few moments of Bulma's silence, with her staring far off in the distance, he held his book up and asked her if she'd read it. She turned towards him with a few second's delay.  
  
"Yes," she said, her voice low, her eyes knitted together. "That's the first one I read. I love the imagery." She took a deep breath, and then continued, her scrambled brain finally calmed. "You almost feel like you're in one of those battle scenes. I felt so dirty after I read it that I took a shower. Felt like I was covered in blood, instead of Magnolia."  
  
"Yeah," he commented, closing the book on his lap. "I'm halfway through. She just cut her father's head off with that saw." He leaned over and set the book on his nightstand. "Took a damn page and a half to describe it."  
  
"But you liked it, didn't you?" she asked, curling her lip.  
  
"Who wouldn't?" came his reply. He slipped off the bed and pulled on the boots he'd discarded upon entering the room.  
  
"Where're you going?"  
  
"The stupid antique shop."  
  
"Well I want to go!" she all but pouted.  
  
"Why the hell else would I go back there?" he snapped. "Now hurry up. I want to finish that book tonight."  
  
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
Yamcha switched uneasily from one foot to the other, his eyes darting back and forth along the narrow street in search of the blonde bombshell drummer he was supposed to meet. Several times he almost lost his nerve, only to remind himself that he was there for Bulma and that nothing should keep him from making his proposal.  
  
"Yamcha!"  
  
The voice was loud enough to startle him into a near fit. When he finally located the source, he was staring deep into the big blue eyes of 18 Gero. He was almost too stunned by her beauty—and the fact that she was one of the most famous rockstars in the business; in the world—that he could barely choke out a hello.  
  
"So, you've called me here about Bulma, correct?"  
  
"Yeah," he said, forcing away all thoughts other than his project at hand. If he was going to get over Bulma, and help her out in the process, then this was the perfect way to go about it. He hoped.  
  
"Well, let's go inside. It's too muggy out here and I have a craving for tea."  
  
"You're Japanese," he pointed out. "You'll always have a craving for tea."  
  
Her laughter was sufficient enough to finally break the ice for him and he opened the door to the café, motioning for her to go first.  
  
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
The moment Vegeta walked through the door of the Townsend antique shop, the owner, the middle-aged woman from a few days before, came rushing towards him, grabbing his arm frantically. It took him a moment to realize why she was acting so strange and excited to see him; she was holding a copy of the picture she'd taken of him.  
  
"So," he laughed, shrugging her away. "I see your daughter liked what she saw."  
  
"Holy Kami! She almost fainted on the spot!" the woman cried. "I need your autograph."  
  
"You have my check," he reminded her.  
  
"I cashed it!"  
  
"Baka," he snarled, taking a pen off the front desk and scribbling his signature on a small note pad. "There, now she can faint for real." He turned from her, ignoring her suppressed squeals of delight, only to find that Bulma was no longer at his side. "Where the hell did she go?"  
  
"Down the hall," the owner replied as she dialed the desk phone and turned from him.  
  
Moments later he found her in exactly the place he figured she'd be; the library. She was perched atop the ladder, a book open on her lap, her eyes moving fluidly across the page. For a minute all he could do was stare at her, the innocent way she was just sitting there and reading; a big smile crept onto his face. And, as she finally looked up, he fought to enforce his scowl.  
  
"I found this great book," she announced, waving him over. "It's a Sayoko Wakai novel. The first one she wrote. She was only thirteen, but the book didn't get published until she was in her thirties. And she's lucky for that, too. One of the first woman writer's of her time." She held the book out for him to see. Again, it was a tattered, barely held together book. Didn't she read anything that was printed before the 16th century? "See." She pointed to the drawing on the title page, a hideously beautiful depiction of a dragon eating a samurai whole. The caption beneath it read: Atasuke in his final battle with Kaan the Dragon. "The story isn't as cheesy as the picture though. Atasuke actually stabs the dragon over a hundred times, though, just as he's about to pierce it's heart, his adversary, Sharaku, runs at them and tackles Atasuke to the ground. The picture doesn't show that Sharaku was devoured first. But, it's all good, because Atasuke regains consciousness in Kaan's belly and slices him open with his dagger. Very bloody scene, or so I'd imagine."  
  
After her small speech about the book, she looked up at Vegeta, only to be startled as his eyes were already on her. She doubted he'd heard a word of what she'd said.  
  
"I'm going to buy it," she managed to say, and eased herself off the ladder, which only brought her even more uncomfortably close to him. "It's a copy from the 18th century. Not very valuable."  
  
"You know woman," he all but purred, placing a hand on a rung of the ladder, thereby enclosing her. "If I didn't know better I'd say you were purposely avoiding looking at me. Tell me you don't feel that tension."  
  
"The only thing I am feeling is INSTENSE annoyance at you. Let me by."  
  
"You really should give me a shot," he continued, ignoring her demand. "I don't understand you. You're the only woman who knows I'm a star and doesn't tremble when I talk."  
  
"Then I must be the only practical woman you know."  
  
"What do you have to lose?"  
  
"Dignity."  
  
"One more date," he pressed, his face inching towards hers. For a second, she almost leaned in.  
  
"No."  
  
"No cameras. I promise. No one will find us where I'll take you."  
  
"That sounds like a line from a bad horror movie. Now get out of my way, I want to go home and look at this."  
  
"Or get away from me?"  
  
"Both," she snapped, shoving at him. This only furthered his desire, and he grabbed her around the waist and pulled her to him, pressing his lips to hers. This time, she didn't hesitate, and pushed at him so hard that he had to take a few steps to regain balance. "I'm not going to fall for you, Vegeta, so you can forget it. I know how you are, you even admitted so yourself. Why on earth would I put myself through something like that? And for a jerk who could care less about a single soul other than himself?" She sighed deeply, suddenly feeling sorry for having pushed him so hard. "Look, I'm sorry about shoving you, but when a girl says no she means it. I'll hang out with you, yes. I'll discuss Anzai with you if you want, ok. But a date? Come on Vegeta, be serious. We clash, and besides, I'm not interested in you, and the only reason you're interested in me is for the challenge. So let's go back to your house, watch a movie with your mother and eat popcorn, ok?"  
  
"You know I can't stand my mother," he said, as if not hearing all of what she'd said.  
  
"Yes, I'm aware. And if there's one thing I want to accomplish out of our friendship it's getting you two to be civil with each other. Well, more like getting you to forgive her for whatever you think she's done to you."  
  
"Did you say friendship?" he balked, shaking his head.  
  
"Why? What's wrong with that? We hang out, share interests, fight. What else is there to a friendship?"  
  
"I'm not 'friends' with girls."  
  
"You're friends with 18. Why am I so different?"  
  
"Because," he explained, as he made for the door; Bulma followed suit. "I'm trying to get into your pants. We can't be friends."  
  
"You'll never succeed," she laughed. "Face it, buddy. We're friends."  
  
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
18 shook her head slowly as she sipped her tea. After hearing Yamcha's proposition, and weighing everything out, she'd come to the conclusion that what he was asking was too much. It not only put Bulma's emotions at stack, but those of everyone around her, including 18 herself.  
  
"I just don't think it'll work," she sighed, setting her cup down. "Do you realize what could happen if it doesn't work? How many people could be hurt? Yourself included."  
  
"Yes, I know." He hadn't touched his tea. "But I just don't see it not working. I don't understand how it could backfire. Sure, Bulma is stubborn and closed-off, but I really see something there. If it doesn't work, I'm the only one to blame. All I want from you is the information. If she gets angry, I'll take the fall."  
  
"It's so risky though. I mean, how the hell are you going to pull it off in the first place? Let alone force her into a situation that may back her into a corner. She'll hate you."  
  
"But if it works she'll be happy."  
  
"You would risk that to make her happy?" she asked, arching her brow. Never had she seen such dedication to a single person. What she was seeing now was love, no question.  
  
"Of course I would. We wouldn't be having this conversation if I wasn't willing to risk it all."  
  
"Kami," she sighed, leaning back in her chair. "Well, if you can set things up, then I'm in."  
  
"Great!" he nearly yelled, a huge grin stretching across his features.  
  
"Just remember that you're toying with other people's lives, Yamcha."  
  
"I know. It's not a game. I'm really giving it my all. Thank you so much!"  
  
"Don't mention it. But hey, I think I'm gonna split. I'll call you when I have something, ok?"  
  
"Sounds great."  
  
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
As Bulma and Vegeta emerged from the antique shop, a strange sight caught her eye, and she couldn't simply continue walking.  
  
"What?" Vegeta growled as she stopped in the street.  
  
"Over there." She pointed to a small café down the street. "That's my ex-boyfriend, and he's with 18."  
  
"Yeah, what's the big deal?"  
  
"Yamcha doesn't know her. How the hell—"  
  
"Forget about it. I'll ask her later, ok?"  
  
"Alright," she replied hesitantly.  
  
As they climbed into his car, parked just outside of Townsend, Vegeta suddenly asked Bulma something that would change their relationship from then on. And though the words seemed simple, they illustrated a whole new meaning.  
  
"So, what movie are we watching?"  
  
They were now officially friends.  
  
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
The next morning Bulma awoke to the sound of someone banging on her bedroom door. When she finally forced herself out of bed and to the door, her mother was nearly in hysterics.  
  
"What?" she yawned, glaring at her. It was only 10:00 am, on a Saturday.  
  
"There's a package for you."  
  
"Yeah, what's so great about that? I order stuff all the time."  
  
"I know," her mother sighed playfully, handing her the box. "But this is different. Look. It only says 'Bulma' on it. Someone hand delivered it. Bulma, dear, you have an admirer."  
  
"Mom, stop talking crazy. Sheesh. It's probably just from Chi or Krillin."  
  
"Nope."  
  
"And how do you know?"  
  
"Because, silly, I saw the boy who left it for you. Thought no one was awake."  
  
"So who was it?"  
  
"Just open the package, dear. Breakfast is on the table."  
  
As Bulma shut the door, her wondered if her mother was on any medication that she didn't know about. Taking a seat on her bed, she carefully pulled the tape off the box, finding it stuffed to the brim with packaging peanuts. She shoved most of them out of the box, and onto her bed, until she came to the contents; a large rectangular object wrapped in a sheet.  
  
She yet out a gasp.  
  
"No," she told herself. "It's a coincidence."  
  
But, as the sheet revealed the object, her heart fluttered and she nearly squealed.  
  
Immediately she grabbed her phone and dialed the number she'd been given last night. One ring. Two rings. Three—  
  
"Hello?" came a groggy and annoyed voice.  
  
"Yes," she said excitedly, still clutching the present to her chest.  
  
"Yes what?"  
  
"Yes I'll go on another date with you."  
  
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
---Chapter 12! Well, well, well, would you look at that? Vegeta and Bulma going on a date? One they both actually want to go on? It looks like things may be heating up for them. Woo! Could this be the beginning of something? :D  
  
REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (Reviews=More Chapters) And I mean it.  
  
Next time: The date? Hmm…maybe. Let's see where I go with this :P 


	13. Happy Birthday Chi!

Last time:  
  
"Yes what?"  
  
"Yes I'll go on another date with you."  
  
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
It was now a week since the last time Bulma had seen Vegeta. A few times, and very briefly, they had conversations on the phone, though they were hardly anything but discussions. Anzai was the topic he chose to stick with, rarely speaking about the upcoming date, even when she mentioned it. She sensed tension in his voice and therefore opted to leave the subject of the date until later on. Besides, she had Chi-Chi's surprise party to think about; it was tonight.  
  
"So how did you get her to ditch Saturday cartoons?" Maris asked Krillin, as she tried in vain to tack streamers to the ceiling.  
  
"Goku's at the mall with her right now," he said triumphantly. "But it wasn't easy. She really didn't want to leave. Even for him. But I have 18 scouting around, so she'll call when they're on their way back."  
  
"And why again are we hanging streamers and balloons? She is turning eighteen, right? Not eight."  
  
"Because," Bulma cut in. "She can't stand 'ridiculous baby birthday parties' as she calls them. It's a big joke. Really we're going to a club, then for a midnight dinner, and then to laser tag—we'll have that place all to ourselves, 'cause I paid the owner off and he's having a few people do overtime for a good sum."  
  
"Really?" Maris asked, her thumb between her teeth. Damn tacks were giving her a hard time. "I didn't think she was like that. I mean, I just figured she was into the whole birthday party thing."  
  
"You would think so, wouldn't you?" Mr. Mau laughed from his place on the couch, where he was wrapping all the presents; his tradition, the guests bring unwrapped presents and he wraps them while they wait for Chi-Chi. And, it never fails; she is always surprised every year, because they always pick a different day and never her birthday, well, except for this year. She wasn't expecting it in the least. "And you know, what?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"We somehow manage to come up with something new to do each year. Last year we managed to get the entire school to line up on the football field and spell out 'Happy Birthday Chi-Chi' with their bodies. She was crying by the time we were headed for the lake for some midnight water games and a bonfire."  
  
"Damn, you guys sure do love her. Going to all that trouble every year."  
  
"Kuso!" Krillin suddenly swore, ducking behind the nearest chair. "They're here!"  
  
"No they're not," Bulma sighed, aggravated.  
  
"Then who just pulled in?"  
  
"I don't know," she grumbled, throwing down the balloon she'd been trying to blow up. "Maybe…17 and Vegeta!" she hissed, bringing everyone's eyes to her. "I'm a little stressed, ok?"  
  
Everyone nodded in unison, just as Vegeta made his entrance, with 17 on his heels, a scowl etched in his features. And Bulma knew exactly what he was staring at; the decorations.  
  
"It's a joke," she explained, before he could make a wise crack. "She hates birthday parties. Don't say a word."  
  
"I wasn't going to," he laughed coldly. "Kami, calm down. Don't be so uptight just because I didn't call you."  
  
"You're so shallow that you actually believe that. Here." She handed him a balloon. "Blow."  
  
Maris crept over to Krillin and leaned over his shoulder, whispering, "What's that all about?" in his ear.  
  
"I have no clue," he whispered back, glancing at Bulma to make sure she couldn't hear them. "She's been short with us all week. You've noticed, right?"  
  
"Yeah, I just figured you guys knew."  
  
"Come on Mar'. You're in the group now. What we know, you know. And we don't know a thing about what's going on with them. Last I checked they were shopping for party decorations. Maybe he did something to piss her off, again."  
  
"Kuso man. We've known these guys for like a month and they act like they've known each other all their lives."  
  
"It's because they're too much alike," came 17's voice, whispering it's way into the conversation. "They're in constant competition."  
  
"You think?" Maris asked, completely accepting his eavesdropping, where, on the other hand, Krillin was silently fuming.  
  
"Yeah, of course. I mean, look at them, blowing those balloons up and just glaring at each other. Kami, if I ever saw two people more made for each other."  
  
"But they hate each other."  
  
"How can they hate each other? They're going on a date next weekend."  
  
"What?" Krillin and Maris blurted out in unison, startling Bulma from her stare-down. But she didn't have time to ask what was going on, for at that moment, Krillin's cellphone rang.  
  
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
"Kami," Chi-Chi laughed as she and Goku got into his car to head back home. "I don't think the mall's ever been that fun, and I didn't even buy anything! Damn that little fat security guard could run fast! I never knew it was wrong to stand in the coin fountain and yell at passersby…That was the best birthday."  
  
"Well it's not over yet," he informed her, having still not started the engine.  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"I'm taking you home to change, then we're going out," which wasn't a total lie.  
  
"You betters stop it," she giggled, catching his steady eyes. They both leaned in at the same time, their arms circling around each other, their lips coming together in a silent fury of the desire they were both feeling.  
  
But, as luck would have it, Goku knew that their passion had to wait for another time. Hell! They weren't even officially a couple. With reluctance, he pulled away, giving her a small smile, and started the car.  
  
It took no more than ten minutes to reach her house. For a split second Goku feared she knew what was going on, for there were several other cars parked in the driveway, but all she said about them was, "Gotta love my friends. They're here even when I'm not." Luckily she didn't here his sigh of relief, as he parked the car on the side of the road, then ran around to open the door for her.  
  
"Gentleman, are we?" she laughed, accepting his hand, and she didn't let go until she was to the front door, opening it casually as always. But, at the sight of the balloons and streamers, she let out a hollowing laugh, nearly coming to tears. "You bakas!" she cried, holding the stitch in her side. "This is hideous! Oh! I hate it!"  
  
Goku paled. What? She hated it?  
  
"Great!" Bulma cheered, enclosing her friend into a tight bear hug. "We knew you would." She then reached over and patted Goku on the shoulder. "Smile, big guy. It's a joke. She loves it, well, the joke anyway."  
  
"Yeah," Chi-Chi confirmed, wiping her eyes. "They know how much I hate ridiculous baby birthday parties." On the other side of the living room Maris laughed. "What?" She shook her head. "Damn it Bulma, don't mock me!"  
  
"Shut up Chi and open your presents so we can go."  
  
"And you." Chi-Chi whirled around and jabbed her finger playfully into Goku's chest. "You knew all along."  
  
"Guilty," he laughed, finally understanding the situation. Well, not really, but it was fun all the same.  
  
"So," she said, taking a seat in the middle of her circle of presents, her head still swimming slightly. Never had she expected this on this day. "Where are we going this time?"  
  
"Clubbin'," Mr. Mau said cheerfully, shaking his hips ever so slightly.  
  
"You're going clubbing daddy?" She couldn't help her laugh.  
  
"Why not? Your old man can shake it. Besides, I wouldn't miss any one of your birthday parties, you know that."  
  
"Yeah," Bulma cut in, taking her seat just outside the circle, purposely avoiding Vegeta. "Oxie's got some moves in him." All throughout their lives, Chi-Chi's close friends had always called her father the Ox King, an inside joke that just seemed to fit him and had stuck, permanently, over time.  
  
"The King sure can dance," Krillin informed, pushing the present he knew to be his at Chi-Chi. "I've seen him."  
  
"When?" Mr. Mau demanded, a deep chuckle still in his throat.  
  
"Tons of times. You think you're invisible in the den when people are here?"  
  
"Be quiet everyone," Chi-Chi snapped, nearly startling Goku who opted to stand. "I'm commencing the opening." Another way of laughter rang through the group, though, as Bulma caught Vegeta's eyes, she seemed to lose her voice, and—surprising herself—gave him a smile.  
  
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
Bulma let out a great war cry as she charged at Vegeta, her gun pointed directly at him, pulling the trigger frantically. But, to her utter dismay, and astonishment, his mark was hit first and she dramatically tumbled to the ground, her vest issuing a low buzzing sound.  
  
"Damn it," she muttered, picking herself up off the floor. "How did you get me? No one ever gets me, especially when I do that."  
  
"You think I've never played laser tag before?" he laughed. "No one ever beats ME."  
  
"Yeah, well, my vest is almost back, so we'll see." With that said, she ran around the corner, up a ramp, through a small tunnel, and aimed her gun directly at Vegeta from atop a balcony. But, as luck would have it, 18 ran passed her, completely missing her to the shadows, and Bulma got distracted and shot her instead; Green Dragon vs. The Commoners, were their teams. "Kuso!" she swore, smacking her vest as it began to buzz again. From below, Vegeta had managed to hit her. "What the hell! I will beat you!" And again she ran off, this time planning to come around behind him.  
  
Vegeta anticipated this, however, and tried to head her off, though, unfortunately for him, he didn't know the lay out of the place and ended up trapped in his own base, an enclosure that takes a spiral hallway to reach, with only one entrance/exit. Bulma found him easily enough and, this time, hit her mark, cheering triumphantly as HIS vest started buzzing.  
  
"Ha! There! I got you!"  
  
"Very good," he said monotone, attaching his gun to the side of his vest, in it's "holster".  
  
"Damn, you were like a rat in a cheese maze. Ha!"  
  
"Shut up woman," he snapped, though the undertone of his voice suggested he was thinking something completely different. Slowly, cautiously perhaps, he inched closer to her, placing a hand on her waist. She didn't move. He leaned in, inches from her face. Still, she didn't move. And, as their lips finally made contact, she stayed right in place, giving in completely to his kiss, her free hand finding a place in his wild hair.  
  
"Vegeta," she whispered when they both needed to breath.  
  
"What?" came his husky reply.  
  
"I got you again." And before he could ask what she meant, his vest buzzed, and she was gone.  
  
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
Sunday nights were never that exciting for the group, who usually sat around watching TV in a daze, with the impending school week looming in the distance, or they'd be at their own separate houses, finishing up any work they had left. Tonight, Bulma and Chi-Chi had such work, both being in Latin, they had a project to finish before Monday. Krillin and Maris, however, found themselves bored out of their minds, as they sat on his front porch, as if watching the grass grow.  
  
"Man, this is fun," Maris sighed, pulling at her gum.  
  
"Tell me about it," Krillin said. "I hate Sundays."  
  
"I wonder what the others are up to? Didn't Goku say they were just relaxing at their separate houses."  
  
"I thought they had hotel rooms."  
  
"They do, for some reason. I don't know. Famous people are strange."  
  
"Yeah, we are," came 17's voice, his feet coming into view first, for Krillin and Maris had been staring down the whole time. When they looked up, they found that only 18 was with him, her face a mask of indifference, though she was really trying to hide her contempt for Maris, who smiled brightly at her brother.  
  
"Whore," she muttered under her breath, though no one seemed to catch it.  
  
"So, what're you two up to?"  
  
"Nothing," Maris answered, popping her gum back in her mouth. "As you can see."  
  
"How's skinny dipping sound?" he asked jokingly.  
  
"I'm in!"  
  
"Of course you are," 18 said to herself, though this time, the contempt was too much to hide. Maris flew off the steps and came within inches of 18, almost unable to keep her fists at bay.  
  
"What was that?" she barked, knowing full well exactly what she'd said.  
  
"You know what I said, but for the rest of you," 18 snarled, "I said, 'Of course YOU are.'"  
  
"You can stop with the jealousy now, 18. It's so unbecoming."  
  
"Jealous!?"  
  
"Yes, jealous. You can't stand it that Krillin pays more attention to me. You want him, don't think I can't see that."  
  
18 went rigid, and Krillin let out a small gasp. The others assumed it to be shock, which somewhat it was, but, for the most part, he was overjoyed to learn what was so plainly clear in 18's silence; she liked him back!  
  
"And you don't?" finally came 18's retort. "I see the way you hang all over him. It's disgusting. Let him decide what he wants, instead of throwing yourself at him, and my brother too, AND Vegeta for that matter. What are you planning, Maris, to make it with every guy in these groups?"  
  
"I DO NOT want Vegeta," Maris snapped, realizing that only now. For him it had only been physical attraction. But with Krillin, there was a small history, and 17, he was new and exciting and seemed to always be somewhere on her mind. Frustrated, she let out a huff and sat back down, crossing her arms. "I don't know who I want, ok?"  
  
This surprised everyone, including 18, who up until now had figured Maris to be nothing but a hussy. She had to admit, if only to herself, that she could no longer hate her for liking Krillin, because, as plain as day, Maris was hurting over her feelings, and, on top of that, both Krillin and 17 now knew her feelings for them. She had guts, 18 was giving her that. Even she wouldn't have come right out like that.  
  
"I like you Krill," she sighed into her lap, then looked up at 17, whose face was knitted in mild pain and resignation. "And I like you too, 17. I just don't know who I like more. I'm sorry I ruined whatever plans you guys had for today. I should go."  
  
"No," 18 said, reaching her hand out to Maris, who took it hesitantly. They walked several yards away from the guys, and 18 made sure to keep her voice low as she talked. "Look, I'm sorry about our…whatever it was…rivalry. I was just afraid that you'd get Krillin and I wouldn't even have a chance at him. I really like him, you know?"  
  
Maris nodded. She knew EXACTLY what 18 was saying.  
  
"I go on dates with guys, half of which I don't even know. I dated Vegeta for a while, bad idea. Heh. I just never found that guy I actually felt something, even slightly, for. With Vegeta there was something strong, but I realized it was friendship, and he did too, in his own way, and we haven't talked about it since. But with Krillin, Kami. There's something there damn it, and I was too focused on it to see how wide the gap between us got. I never wanted that. I really did like you when we all first met. I just let my emotions get the better of me."  
  
"Me too," Maris admitted, finally looking up at the blonde. "But you know what?"  
  
"Hmm?"  
  
"I don't want to hate you anymore. Truce?"  
  
"Yeah," 18 laughed, shaking her hand. "And, for what it's worth, I'm sorry."  
  
"I'm sorry too. And I promise, I'll back down from Krillin. Besides, I really do like 17, a lot. It's only the 'competition' between us kept me further from him."  
  
"You don't have to do that. I want Krillin to decide for himself who he likes best. You know? Let's just keep things as they are, and wait for him to make the move."  
  
"Right, and when he picks you, I'll ask 17 on a date."  
  
"Right," 18 laughed. "He's completely fallen for you."  
  
"Really? Hmm, that must explain why he talks about you most of the time we're together."  
  
"Stop it. We're good now."  
  
"No, I'm serious."  
  
"Yeah, well, you're all 17 talks about."  
  
A heavy blush crept onto Maris's cheeks, and, as her eyes drifted towards 17, she found he was staring right back at her.  
  
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
"So, how come you didn't tell us?" was all Chi-Chi said as the group gathered in front of the school Monday in their usual spot until the bell rang.  
  
"Because," Bulma sighed, knowing exactly what she meant. Obviously Vegeta had told his friends, and Goku must have slipped it to Chi-Chi. "I didn't want to say anything until I was sure we were going. I don't want you guys to worry about me, and there was a good chance he would stand me up, you know, 'cause he's a jerk like that."  
  
"Didn't want to jinx yourself?"  
  
"You know it," Bulma laughed bitterly. "You guys hate me?"  
  
As if they were trained seals, all three shook their heads: no.  
  
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you, but this thing with Vegeta, err…I don't know. It's complicated. I don't want to like him, I try to push him away, and it worked—for what?—a week, but there's just something about him. And even though I know he's a womanizer and is probably only trying to get me into bed, I can't help myself. Damn him for being so irresistible! And the book he gave me. Damn him! I know it was only a lure…You guys need to help me."  
  
"With what?" Krillin asked, just as the bell rang.  
  
"To stay away from him. I'll go on this date, but after that, you guys have to help me say no."  
  
"You mean," Maris said, as they began to walk into the school, "that you want us to keep you from falling in love with him?"  
  
Bulma sighed deeply and nodded her head, tears beginning to form in her eyes.  
  
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
---Chapter 13! Yeah! I'm on a roll! Yes! Woohoo! Bulma!! What the hell!? How are you going to keep yourself away from a god like Vegeta? Good luck sister, heehee :P  
  
REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (Reviews=More Chapters)Remember that :P  
  
Next time: Probably the date, unless something else comes to mind.  
  
Note: I really hope none of the story is confusing to you guys. Tell me if anything is!  
  
P.S.: Too lazy to re-read. Will make corrections later. 


	14. Beginnings

Last time:  
  
"You mean," Maris said, as they began to walk into the school, "that you want us to keep you from falling in love with him?"  
  
Bulma sighed deeply and nodded her head, tears beginning to form in her eyes.  
  
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
Bulma sat uneasily on the edge of the mountain, a giant slab of rock jutting out from its side, her legs dangling over the edge. It wasn't the staggering height though, for from where she sat she'd have to take a running jump to make it close to falling off the mountain, but the person that sat beside her, his arm casually draped over her shoulder.  
  
Hours ago Vegeta had arrived at her house to pick her up, again not allowing her to know their destination until they were there. This time, however, it wasn't a fancy restaurant or a booming club that he took her to, but a peaceful lake with few houses and cabins, as far from normal civilization, and reporters, as possible—just as promised. The lake itself wasn't that large, able to see across, and surrounded by mountains on all sides. He owned a cabin on that lake, a surprisingly small log structure with only four bedrooms, one bathroom and basic living room and kitchen. No televisions, no computers. There was one phone, and it was unhooked, for he never seemed to use it. When asked about the size of the cabin, he remarked that he didn't need a big place when what he came for was the lake and the mountains. If Jun didn't insist that he be in a secure building, he'd camp in a tent every time he went there.  
  
For a long while they simply walked around his property, a large chunk of land surrounded by trees and accessible only by a small dirt road; a small beach, part of a forest, and two docks. There were no boats or other watercrafts, though Bulma guessed that he owned them and they must be in storage. The beach was gorgeous, a small strip of sand that extended into the water, much like a peninsula, with what he called an island at the end, though it was obviously attached. Just before they'd decided to climb the mountain, which was quite small, he assured her—and it was, only a thirty-minute hike—they'd sat on the beach, in silence, and for a moment she almost forgot who he was.  
  
"I never thought a guy like you would take a date someplace like this," Bulma said offhandedly, as she stared at the miles of forest ahead of, and below, them. The lake was in full view as well, though Vegeta's cabin was lost to the trees. "It's completely unlike you. Even to own a place so beautiful. Must be a huge secret."  
  
"Somewhat," he replied, giving a small yawn. Earlier that morning, around 4:00AM, 17 had come to his house and forced him to listen to a new song he wrote. Granted the song was amazing and Vegeta wanted to record it, but 4:00AM is 4:00AM, and he hadn't been able to get back to sleep. "How is it unlike me, exactly?"  
  
"It's just I don't picture Big Rockstar Guy with a small place in the wilderness."  
  
"We all have land up here. 17 and Goku are across the lake, and 18 is a few miles to the right of my cabin."  
  
"Close, but not too close," she observed.  
  
"Precisely."  
  
"What time is it?"  
  
"Why?" The tone of his voice suggested that he wasn't close to being ready to leave the mountaintop.  
  
"Because, we should head down before it gets any darker. The sun's already starting to go down. I don't want to be up here at night."  
  
"Why not? I sleep up here all the time."  
  
"Alone?"  
  
"Yes. Why not?"  
  
"Whatever." She turned her head away just as he was leaning in, causing him to give out a great "humph". "Don't try that again either. I told you when you picked me up that this date was as friends, nothing more. No kissing, or fondling, or anything else you like to do on dates."  
  
"Then how is this a date? And what the hell is so wrong with kissing?"  
  
"Because, it'll lead elsewhere," she sighed, standing up and brushing off the back of her jeans. "And I don't want to have to be angry with you for making a move on me. Let's just not be put in that situation."  
  
"You're difficult," he grumbled, standing as well, though he didn't bother to wipe any dirt away. "Kissing isn't what you make it out to be. Granted, the first time you were drunk off your ass and you thought I was trying to rape you, but I didn't do anything suggestive at the laser tag place. Give me more credit, woman. I don't take girls to bed unwillingly."  
  
"I never said that, but I don't want to be in a position where I feel the urge to do more."  
  
"What is it that scares you so much about me?"  
  
"I am NOT scared."  
  
"Then what is it?"  
  
"I told you before," she stressed, giving a small signal that she was going to start heading back. Vegeta only sighed and followed, catching up to her easily. "I don't want to fall into a trap with you. The second I've been in your bed, you'll ditch out on me." She turned to him suddenly and gave him a devious smirk. "If I can keep you around long enough, you might actually adapt some good qualities and maybe, just maybe, you can find a girl that you truly like, instead of just from the neck down."  
  
"Good luck, but as things are now, I'm still itching to throw you down and make you beg for it."  
  
"Ha! Well, at least you're honest, but good luck to you too, baka. Man, what friends I keep."  
  
"I already told you—"  
  
"Save it Romeo. We have a mountain to climb back down."  
  
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
17 sat at the edge of his seat, his hands clasped together, tongue pressed firmly against the roof of his mouth so not to say anything before he was ready. Across from him, at the hotel's kitchen table, Maris sat, her nerves almost as strained as his seemed to be. It was later Saturday night, and, on a whim, he'd driven over to Chi-Chi's, where Maris's mother said she was, and brought her back to his hotel room. As he'd driven to get her, his mind was racing with a million and one things. Now, as she sat there, her thumb between her teeth, he couldn't quite form his thoughts and feelings into words.  
  
Ever since last weekend, when he and 18 had shown up unexpectedly and he learned of her feelings for him—and Krillin, though he tried to forget that—he hadn't been able to stop thinking about her; more than usual. Before she had been that cute girl from the concert, who he thought idly about dating, maybe. But now, with these new emotions in the air, he didn't want to let her get away.  
  
"Maris," he said, after what very well could have been fifteen minutes.  
  
"Yeah?" Was she trembling? She thought she was.  
  
"What you said—"  
  
"Please don't," she whispered, surprising herself. "I…It's just that, I mean, I like Krillin too. And until I figure out who I like more, I can't be with anyone. If I'm with someone I want to be completely devoted to them, and not have feelings for someone else. Do you know what I mean?"  
  
"Yes," he sighed, biting his lip almost hard enough to draw blood.  
  
"There's something else too."  
  
17 looked up at her, trying to remain focused and not break down. How many times had he been denied love by another girl? Even with his fame, when he started to fall in love, the girl always seemed to sense it and run away. Kami, and he hadn't even known Maris all that long.  
  
"I…Well, I have a really hard time being close with other people. I mean, I'm close with Bulma and Chi-Chi and Krillin, but we've only been friends since the day of the concert, and, well, I'm not really letting myself get close at all. Sure, I hang out with them all the time, like old friends, but the truth is they know next to nothing about me, and I intend to keep it that way until I can let people in again." She sighed deeply, then reached over and grabbed 17's hand for comfort, and to keep him from tapping his fingers. "Ever since I was in diapers I'd known Tobei. Best friend, through it all. He was there when I had my first boyfriend, turned sixteen. Fights, parties, love, hate; everything…Heh. When I lost my virginity to my last boyfriend, and then he dumped me, Tobei was my shoulder to cry on. I didn't even have to ask him, he was just there, like always, ready for anything.  
  
"It wasn't until April this year, near the end of school last year, that I realized he was the guy I was supposed to be with, he was the guy I was in love with and always had been.  
  
"It was the thirtieth. It rained that night, but I still ran all the way to his house. I climbed in the window, just as always, like nothing was different." She let out a small sorrowful laugh. "He was sitting on his bed, reading. Hamlet, his favorite play…I walked over to him and sat next to him, took his book and threw it on the floor. He didn't question me…" She trailed off suddenly, her eyes beginning to well with tears. 17 clutched her hand tighter, urging her to go on. She did.  
  
"For a minute I couldn't do anything but stare at him, wondering how in Kami's name I had never seen it before. It was Friday, so his parents were at work, and we didn't have school the next day.  
  
"I touched his cheek, and right then, in that moment, I knew he loved me too. And we were finally together, that night, and it was the most perfect moment of my entire life. I couldn't even remember my ex. All that I could see was Tobei, and I thought: This is what I want. This is for real, the rest of my life is with him."  
  
She broke off to wipe her nose with the back of her sleeve.  
  
"He died in a car accident two nights later, on his way to my house." She gave another hurt-filled laugh and shook her head. "Later his parents told me they'd gotten into a fight. Tobei had bought me a wedding ring and was planning on eloping that very night. In a rage with their disapproval, he stormed out. He was three blocks from my house when a drunk driver smashed into him. Died instantly."  
  
"Maris, I—"  
  
"And you know the worst part about it?" she all but demanded. "The damn drunk is still alive! Broke his neck, that's all! That's it! And Tobei died!" She burst into tears and collapsed on the table, wrenching her wrist free of 17's grasp. Immediately he ran around to her side, kneeled next to her, and pulled her as close as she would permit.  
  
"I'm going to call your mom," he whispered gently, easily lifting her into his arms to place on the couch.  
  
She only nodded slowly, her eyes hazy and her mind dazed. It was the first time in over five months that she'd spoken of Tobei.  
  
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
"Come on!" Bulma whined as she and Vegeta crossed the lawn to reach his cabin. "It's not dark yet. We still have like a half an hour of daylight. Please!"  
  
"You can go if you want, woman," he sighed, motioning towards the lake. "But I'm in for the night."  
  
"Wait, what?"  
  
"I'm going in the cabin. If you haven't noticed, I've been yawning for the past three hours."  
  
"No, not that. I mean, yes, but—We can't stay here over night!"  
  
"I'm not driving back this tired. Unless you want to chance an accident."  
  
"I have to at least call my mom."  
  
"Go right ahead. You brought your cellphone."  
  
"Hello, mom?" she said once someone at her house picked up. "I'm fine…Yes, the date was nice…No, I didn't kiss him…Yes, he's right here…What? No, mom, listen—" She groaned angrily and handed Vegeta the phone. "She wants to talk to you."  
  
"Yeah?" he said, pulling the phone several inches from his ear as the woman at the other end squealed happily. "Yes, I know…Yeah…I'm trying…Very difficult…Yes, for the night…Noon?…Ok…Bye."  
  
"What the hell was all that?"  
  
"Your mother is strange, but she knows you're staying the night."  
  
"Fine. That's all and good, Vegeta, but I'm still itching to swim. I've neglected using my pool all summer."  
  
"If you wanted to swim that bad, you'd have used your own pool, woman."  
  
"I was preoccupied."  
  
"Whatever. But as soon as its dark, I'm heading in. And if I fall asleep in the water and drown, you can explain to Jun what happened."  
  
Not a moment after he finished his sentence, Bulma grabbed his arm and ran towards the lake, kicking off her shoes as she ran. Once on one of the docks, she pulled off her socks, and jumped into the water, not bothering with removing even her outer clothing. Vegeta stared after her as though she'd just committed a major crime.  
  
"What?" she asked innocently. "I told you I really wanted to swim. And besides, I didn't bring a suit."  
  
"You didn't bring a change of clothes either."  
  
"Well come in."  
  
"I'm not foolish like you woman. I'm changing."  
  
"Pansy," she hisses playfully, then ducked under the water, not resurfacing again until she was several yards from the dock. And, to her utter surprise, and delight, found Vegeta was in the water and some five feet away. "Good, I knew you had some adventure in you. Now let's race. I bet I can beat you back to the dock."  
  
"What are we betting?"  
  
"It's a saying, Kami."  
  
"Seriously."  
  
"Umm…"  
  
"If I win, you have to kiss me."  
  
"You're an ass. A big horny ass."  
  
"That's unpleasant," he remarked, getting a small smile from Bulma. He knew she'd say yes now.  
  
"Fine, but if I win you have to stop badgering me about kissing you. Deal?"  
  
He held out his hand and shook hers, then readied himself to race.  
  
"One," Bulma counted. "Two…Three…Go!"  
  
She took off far in the lead, pulling her arms through the water, and pushing with her legs, the weight of her clothes now much heavier than when she'd first jumped in. When she chanced a glance back, Vegeta was nowhere in sight. Until, however, she looked ahead at the dock; he was sitting on the ladder, smiling at her.  
  
"How the hell did you—"  
  
"Shut up and get out of the water. I have a change of clothes for you."  
  
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
Krillin stared blankly ahead, his expression and composure not that of a person who had just been told they were the object of a crush. 18 stood on the opposite side of the room, where she'd been since entering his house ten minutes before.  
  
"You can think about it if you want," she said, "but I think I'm going to head out. I've already broken a sort of promise by telling you all that, and I don't want to pressure you into anything. I…Just call me, ok?"  
  
"You don't normally do this, do you?" he suddenly asked.  
  
"Do what?"  
  
"Tell people when you like them. You don't."  
  
"No," she sighed, looking slightly away. "I've never really liked someone…this much before. Enough to risk what little friendship I have with Maris, not to mention my dignity."  
  
She was halfway to the front door when Krillin caught her by the arm and pulled her to him, pressing their lips firmly together. 18 tensed at first, having only been touched that way by one other man, then eased into it, and brought her arms up around his shoulders.  
  
When they released, Krillin eagerly whispered, "Be mine, buttercup."  
  
18 laughed appropriately at the corny nickname he'd only just made up. And, astonishingly, she liked it.  
  
Her answer was as simple as reaching into her backpack—for she despised purses—pulling out a peanut butter cup, and placing it in his mouth.  
  
"You're amazing," he sighed once the sweet was swallowed.  
  
"I know," she laughed. "Just don't tell anyone else that."  
  
"I think I may be falling in love with you."  
  
18 tensed again at his words, only relaxing when he kissed her on the cheek and whispered, "But I don't expect anything from you," before leading her back into the living room.  
  
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
It was nearing one a.m. and still Vegeta refused to go to sleep, a fact he'd been whining about since they came down from the mountain. Try as Bulma might, he wouldn't budge, no matter how many times he yawned. He was waiting for the kiss, and no amount of card games would change his mind.  
  
"You can't back out of a bet, woman," he reminded her, for the tenth time. "Hit me."  
  
"I know," she groaned, as she handed him another card, trying her best to keep from smiling at the thought that he wouldn't go to bed without a kiss. And the fact that she was wearing his clothes; a pair was lose PJ bottoms and a white tank top.  
  
"Hit me."  
  
"You're making it awful tempting," she muttered, slapping down another card. "You're over. I win again."  
  
"But I won before."  
  
"Why are you so damn insistent on it? I mean, what could you possibly gain? I'm not sleeping with you, or going on another date, or being your girlfriend."  
  
"A kiss, onna," he grumbled. "Hit me."  
  
She reached over and slapped him lightly across the face, then smiled sweetly and sat back.  
  
"If you don't live up to your word, I'm going to have to do it for you, and you won't like the result."  
  
"Fine," she sighed, and scooted herself forward on the carpeted living room floor. Immediately, he reached out, grabbed her around the waist and hoisted her into his lap. "What're you doing?"  
  
"Setting the mood," he laughed.  
  
"Moron."  
  
Slowly—only to annoy Vegeta—she wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned in, stopping only a millimeter from his lips. "I hate you, Vegeta," she whispered.  
  
"Why's that, woman?"  
  
"Because," she sighed. "You make me crazy…and I want to kiss you."  
  
Their lips met not a second later, and Bulma knew, without a doubt, that nothing her friends could say, or do, could keep her from falling for him.  
  
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
---Chapter 14! Yes! Oh yeah! Woo! How was that? I loved that! That was amazing and awesome and ruled so frickin' much! Heehee. Wow, I have a big head :P Hope you all liked it as much as I apparently do :P  
  
REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (Reviews=More Chapters) I kid you not.  
  
Next time: What the hell is going on!??…I dunno :P 


	15. Medical Circus

Last time:  
  
"Because," she sighed. "You make me crazy…and I want to kiss you."  
  
Their lips met not a second later, and Bulma knew, without a doubt, that nothing her friends could say, or do, could keep her from falling for him.  
  
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
"This isn't what I had in mind," Yamcha sighed, as he stared at the small empty needle 18 held between her fingers.  
  
"Why not? If it works, it works. Who cares how it happens." She glanced at the batch of nametags on the desk, picked one she liked, and pinned it to her "borrowed" uniform. "I want one of these outfits."  
  
"You could hurt her," he insisted. He glanced around the corner. No one was coming. "Besides, what if we get caught? Do you realize how much trouble we'll be in? No one is going to believe what we're really doing, and why, and even if they did, they wouldn't care."  
  
"You worry too much. If you really cared about Bulma half as much as you say you do then you'd be doing this, not me. But it's a lot easier to have me do it, so I am. No one would openly accept a strange new man nurse. But there are so many women that one unrecognizable face won't bat an eyelash. Now," she sighed. "How do I look?"  
  
"Like a porn star," he groaned. How did he get himself into this? "18, please, reconsider. You could hurt an innocent child with that thing."  
  
"And just how could I do that? Listen, Yamcha. My grandmother, Kami rest her soul, was sick for the last ten years of her life. When I visited her, I helped with her shots. I've been doing it since I was twelve. I think I can handle one shot, for one baby." She winked at him from behind the bangs of her brunette wig, set the useless syringe down, and left the room. This was going to be a piece of cake.  
  
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
It was late Monday afternoon, and no one could think of anything to do, let alone motivate themselves to do it. The two groups were complete, aside from 18 who had deadlined paperwork to finish before she could do anything. 17 and Maris sat on the love seat in Bulma's upstairs living room, sitting as close to each other as possible without actually touching. Krillin sat alone in his usual chair of that room, wishing that 18 could be there with him. Chi-Chi and Goku, who couldn't seem to keep their hands off one another—though neither had the courage to ask the other out officially—were seated beside Bulma on the big couch. And Vegeta, he sat on the couch's armrest, just close enough to Bulma so the others might think something is up, but far enough away that she didn't ask him to move or try to push him. She was still extremely ify towards him, and any more he made, whether it be shifting in his seat or stretching, she presumed could easily turn into a sexual move, and she would be powerless to stop him. She was falling harder than she realized.  
  
"Why do we come over here if there's nothing to do?" Vegeta complained, for what seemed like the hundredth time.  
  
"What else would you rather do?" Bulma snapped back, cringing as his lips curled into a devious smirk. "Asshole. Don't look at me."  
  
"My," Chi-Chi cooed, taking her eyes off Goku for the first time all afternoon. "There's a bit of tension between you guys. Maybe you should go to your room and work it off."  
  
"Chi-Chi Mau!"  
  
"What?" she asked innocently. "Sorry B. I'm just trying to lighten the mood. You two bring it down so quickly. Bicker, bicker, bicker."  
  
"I do not bicker," Bulma replied hotly under her breath, purposely ignoring Vegeta's chuckling beside her.  
  
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
"Hello, Miss Miyahara," 18 said, glancing at the paper work on her clipboard. "Oh, she has such a beautiful name. Ryoko. I've always loved that name."  
  
"Yes. Thank you Miss…Kimio," the woman laughed. "It's always been my favorite too. There was no doubt what her name was going to be."  
  
"Well, this should be relatively easy. Does Ryoko scare easily with new people?"  
  
"Oh no. Not at all. She's an angel, I assure you."  
  
"Great," 18 said. She set down the clipboard and gently lifted the syringe, this time containing a flu vaccination. "This will only sting for a minute, Ryoko dear."  
  
The small child's large green eyes looked wonderingly at the needle, and made no attempt to move when 18 took hold of her chubby little arm. Slowly, so not to alarm the child, she put the needle on the upper arm, and, so she could barely feel a thing, pressed it in and pulled it out quickly. And, surprisingly, Ryoko didn't flinch.  
  
"There, all done." She swabbed the small bit of blood that came from the needle hole, then secured it with a cartoon character band-aid. "Can she have sweets yet?"  
  
"Oh, yes. That would be lovely."  
  
"Alright," she hummed, digging through the colorful array of lollipops. "Here. Green, to match her eyes."  
  
Once mother and daughter were gone, 18 nonchalantly slipped away from her booth, went down the hall, and turned into the room she and Yamcha had just been in. He was waiting, tapping his foot nervously on the ground.  
  
"Took you long enough," he barked.  
  
"Oh stop," she laughed, pulling off her wig, knowing full well that he was only paranoid. "Come on. I'll buy you dinner before I head over to Bulma's."  
  
"You guys really are being good friends with them, huh?"  
  
"I'm dating their friend Krillin." She could help the blush that rushed at her cheeks. In an attempt to hide it, she made for the door. "I'd say we're pretty close."  
  
"Krillin? Really? I can't picture you with him."  
  
"I know," she sighed. They were already to her car. She climbed in, tossed her wig in the back seat, and started the engine. "But there's just something about him."  
  
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
"Once," 18 said, thumbing through a magazine, "I thought I was pregnant. Stupid really. So, I came to the father of an old friend, Dr. Otaka. He was completely confidential, and no one every knew about it."   
  
"And what about the other sample," Yamcha asked. "You got the girl's yesterday, but his? How'd you do that? Stab him?"  
  
"Yeah," she laughed. She set down the magazine and looked him in the eye. "Everything will be fine, I assure you. He had a cut on his arm. I took an old band-aid. Simple. Now stop worrying."  
  
"And the samples are…sufficient?"  
  
"Yes, of course."  
  
"Miss Gero."  
  
"Dr. Otaka! How are you?"  
  
"Wonderful my dear. Here, come with me." He led the two into the back laboratory and took a seat on a metal stool. "I understand you need a paternity test. For you?"  
  
"No, no. For a friend. Too shy to come down herself, you know?"  
  
"Oh, I quite understand," he said, smiling. "Where are your samples? Are they recent?"  
  
"Yes, not very good I'm afraid; a cotton ball and a band-aid. Will that work?"  
  
"Certainly."  
  
"And when can you be done?"  
  
"I can have the results back to you tomorrow."  
  
"Great. Here." She grabbed a blank sheet of paper off his mess of a work area, scribbled her number, and handed it to him. "Call me as soon as you know."  
  
"Will do, love."  
  
"Thanks, so much. This really means a lot."  
  
"Just doing my job," he laughed. "Thanks for the business."  
  
They weren't outside for two seconds before Yamcha lit into her.  
  
"What if he gets suspicious because the samples are for friends?"  
  
"You know, Yamcha," she sighed. "You're really beginning to annoy me." And that's all she would say.  
  
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
"Don't you have school or something?" Vegeta asked, trying to scratch an itch he couldn't reach.  
  
"Yeah," Bulma laughed. She leaned over, slipped her hand under his shirt and scratched at his itch with her sufficiently long fingernails. "But I took the day off. Kami knows I deserve it. You know, I haven't missed a single day since Kindergarten." She gasped loudly, just realizing the truth. "Holy Kami. I haven't missed a day since Kindergarten. This isn't like me."  
  
"Seeing one girl isn't like me," he added, making sure she saw his small smile. "And one like you no less."  
  
"And just what is that supposed to mean?"  
  
"You know what I mean. No kissing. No sex. Not even fooling around. You wear jeans like they're going out of style. Your hair never changes. You don't wear make-up."  
  
"And how are any of those bad things? You just described all the tramps you've probably been on dates with." She unsnaked her hand from inside his shirt and placed it back in her lap. "I'm unlike any girl you're ever going to meet," she said with a triumphant smile, mirroring that of Vegeta's. "What?"  
  
"That's why you're the only girl," he said slyly. "No one has ever been the only girl."  
  
Bulma leaned in, as if on que, locking her lips with Vegeta's, her arms predictably wrapping around his shoulders. No sooner than her arms were in place, did he lift her into his lap, an action that brought a giggle from Bulma's throat.  
  
"Kuso," she whispered, as their faces separated.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Your stupid line worked on me."  
  
"Really?" he mused. "I didn't notice."  
  
Before she had a chance to counter him, however, there came a knock at the door, which promptly flew open. Mrs. Ouji stood, holding the cordless telephone, her face streaked with tears and mascara.  
  
"Kami," Bulma gasped, sliding from Vegeta's lap and to her feet. "What's wrong Mrs. Ouji?"  
  
"It's Goku," she sobbed. The phone slipped from her hand and crashed to the floor, sending the batteries across the carpet. She bent down to retrieve it, though only seemed to upset herself more and collapsed on the floor. Bulma rushed to her side. Vegeta was dumbstruck on the bed.  
  
"What's Goku?"  
  
"He…" She ran the back of her hand along her runny nose, trying in vain to stop her tears. "He was in a car accident…He…He's in the Emegency Room at the hospital…"  
  
"Holy Kami!"  
  
"I don't know anything else though!" Mrs. Ouji cried, curling her hands around Bulma's arms. "17 could barely say anything to me!"  
  
"But he's ok, right?"  
  
"I don't know!"  
  
"Was he with anyone else?"  
  
Silence.  
  
"Was he!?"  
  
"I…I don't know…"  
  
"Vegeta?" Bulma whimpered, turning back to him. He was like a stone statue on the bed. He didn't even blink. "Vegeta!"  
  
"I can drive you there," Mrs. Ouji offered, picking herself shakily up off the floor.  
  
"Alright." She helped her off the floor as best as she could, then went to Vegeta's side. He didn't look at her. "Vegeta, come on."  
  
His eyes shifted in her direction.  
  
"Vegeta?"  
  
"What if he—"  
  
"He won't. Don't worry." She grabbed his wrist gently and pulled him off the bed. "Come on."  
  
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
Goku laid in the cramped and stuffy hospital ICU room, his back stiff and uncomfortable in the position he was lying in. For hours he'd endured surgery, while under heavy anesthesia, with his friends and family—and associates—waiting on pins and needles for news of his condition. It came at seven that evening, after sitting in the Waiting Room for five painful hours; Goku would recover with minimal side effects. His left side had been nearly crushed under the weight of the car he'd collided with. His heart had been missed by less than an 1/8 of an inch. As it stood, his left arm and leg were broken in several places each, and a severe gash had been stitched up on his forehead, just under his hair.  
  
"What side effects could he have?" Goku's Grandfather asked uneasily. The doctor smiled.  
  
"Little to none," he replied. "If anything, he may walk with a limp from time to time when the bones and joints get stiff, and his broken arm is likely to heal at an outward angle. But nothing debilitating, and nothing a tough kid like him can't handle. Just a moment ago he wanted to get out of bed."  
  
"So he's awake?"  
  
"And fighting," the doctor laughed. "You can go in and see him if you like. He'll be out of ICU tomorrow, once his test results come back. Until then we're keeping him there to be monitored."  
  
"Thank you doctor."  
  
Like a herd of antelope running from a hungry lioness, those closest to Goku came running into his room, halting immediately at the sight of him bandaged and wearily-looking. Was this the same Goku they all knew and loved?  
  
"One of you best have gummi worms or, Kami help me, I'm busting out of this damn hospital," he finally said, when no one spoke. The group broke into peals of laughter, ending abruptly when 18 pulled a five-pound bag from her backpack, and then it started up again.  
  
For an hour and a half they chatted and laughed with their bed-ridden friend, constantly assuring him that he would be fine and up again in no time. When he asked Jun—who was of course present, and had been since four o'clock—what would happen to Green Dragon with his injury, she informed him that everything would be just fine. Their fans were loyal enough that a minor set back and some canceled concerts wouldn't turn them away. She added, with a bright smile, that she would be informing the press the next day about his condition, announcing that as soon as Goku was one hundred percent, Green Dragon would pick up where they left off. And everyone would be reimbursed, of course.  
  
"Where's Vegeta?" Goku suddenly asked, as if just noticing his friend's absence.  
  
"In the Waiting Room," 18 said, a little edgy. Another fight he assumed.  
  
"Why isn't he in here? What the hell!" he grumbled. "Sorry. My meds make me cranky."  
  
"He says he wants to talk to you alone. I tried to get him to come in with us, but he refused. You should have seen him when he walked in though, white as a sheet."  
  
"Well of course!" Mrs. Ouji piped in. "You don't know how much you mean to my son, Goku."  
  
"He's an asshole."  
  
Everyone's faces dropped.  
  
"Sorry. Damn meds. They need to put me on something else."  
  
"There's one thing I don't get," 18 said around a mouthful of peanut butter cups. Goku grimaced. They were the one food he didn't like. Too much peanut butter and not enough chocolate he said.  
  
"What?"  
  
"What were you doing on Doctor's Alley (a nickname for the street with all medical related businesses)? That is where you crashed, right?"  
  
"I have a better question," Goku snapped, shaking his head. He gave an apologetic sigh. 18 nodded for him to continue. "What were you doing there with Bulma's ex-boyfriend?"  
  
"Kuso," she swore, covering her mouth with her hand.  
  
"Yeah," Bulma added. "I saw you with him the other day. What's going on, 18? Since when do you know Yamcha?"  
  
"I…Bulma, can I talk to you?…In private?"  
  
Bulma gave her a questioning look.  
  
"Please?"  
  
"Yeah," she sighed. She didn't want the others to think she was the reason they were all being singled out. A wink to Chi-Chi as they left the room told her she would know soon enough.  
  
"As for the rest of you," Goku joked. "Get out. I want to talk to Vegeta."  
  
With small laughs and large chips on their shoulders, the group hustled out of the room. Moments later Vegeta walked in, at a slower, less confident pace than usual. His head hung low and his eyes seemed irritated. And there was no doubt in Goku's mind he had been crying.  
  
"Vegeta—" He began, but was cut off immediately.  
  
"You listen to me!" Vegeta railed, tears threatening to escape, as he pointed a finger at the temporarily disabled. Goku flinched, then glared at his sour friend. "Because, Kami damn it, I'm only going to say this once!"  
  
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
---Chapter 15! Eeep! How can I end it right there!? Damn I'm a mean author :P Heehee. Don't worry though, the next chapter shall answer some of the questions I left up in the air. I will deliver!  
  
REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (Reviews=More Chapters)You think I joke, ha!  
  
Next time: Ahhh! What kind of a sick Soap Opera world have I created!?  
  
Note: I suffer from what is commonly called Extreme Laziness. LOL! I'll check my work when I have time later :P In the meantime, tell me about typos, etc…Thanks!  
  
P.S. :Yamcha was skipping school the same day as Bulma (now it makes more sense :P) 


	16. Feelings

Last time:  
  
"Vegeta—" He began, but was cut off immediately.  
  
"You listen to me!" Vegeta railed, tears threatening to escape, as he pointed a finger at the temporarily disabled. Goku flinched, then glared at his sour friend. "Because, Kami damn it, I'm only going to say this once!"  
  
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
Bulma stared wide-eyed at her blonde friend, as if her words had been in a different language. And they may as well have been, for Bulma didn't understand a word of her proclamation. What in Kami's name did she mean?  
  
"Wait," Bulma said, holding up her hand. 18 stopped instantly, her shaky hand moving up just under her lips. "You say you're trying to prove Vegeta isn't the father of Sen's daughter? And that if you find out he isn't, I'll want to be with him because there are no strings attached to him?" 18 nodded. "And what does Yamcha have to do with all of this?"  
  
"It was his idea."  
  
"What!?"  
  
18 flinched. What was it about this fiery blue-haired heiress that could make 18 Gero, International Badass, jump?  
  
"And how the hell did you become involved? This doesn't make a damn bit of sense AND its unethical. You can't just go around dressing up like a nurse and giving babies shots, 18! Do you know how dangerous that is?"  
  
"I told you—"  
  
"I know, you have experience, but what if you got caught? Kami 18, what the hell were you thinking?"  
  
"Yamcha called my cellphone a week ago. I didn't know who he was, but I played along. I was bored, and that call was the only interesting thing at the time." She took a deep breath and looked away. "We got to talking, and then he mentioned his name was Yamcha, and I just couldn't put the phone down. He sounded genuinely upset and wanted to help you. I agreed to meet with him, he told me his plan, and I took it from there. But Bulma!" This time it was Bulma's turn to flinch, and, just as 18 had felt vulnerable in Bulma's presence, she too felt that smallness being near this tough woman, a feel she neither liked nor had experienced before. "I only wanted to help you! I know you like Vegeta, and he likes you."  
  
"No," Bulma corrected. "He wants me. There's a difference. Almost every time I'm around him he tries to kiss me, then I tell him off and say he's only trying to get into my pants, and he says that that's exactly what he's doing. He's no good for me, 18. I know when a guy likes me, and Vegeta does not like me."  
  
"You're wrong though. You don't know him the way I do. He really does like you. Come on Bulma, I mean, he hasn't gone on a single date since he met you, with the exception of Sen, but that was to shut her up, and he was forced to go. He hasn't even looked at another girl. You're all he talks about, well, you and music. And sometimes he goes into these dazes, and I know he's thinking of you, because he's never done that before!"  
  
"He's interested in me for one reason."  
  
"And what's that?" 18 asked, a little too hotly. Why wouldn't she just believe that he liked her?  
  
"A challenge. I am the only girl he's met that hasn't fallen at his feet in praise. He wants to see if he can bag me, and, frankly, I'm not up for being hurt."  
  
"I wish you'd at least give him a shot."  
  
"I have been," Bulma sighed. "I've been on two dates, and today I skipped school for the first time, EVER, just to hang out with him."  
  
"Have you guys kissed yet?"  
  
"Yes, you know we have."  
  
"I mean when you weren't drunk."  
  
Bulma averted her eyes.  
  
"At the cabin?"  
  
"Yeah…"  
  
"Today?"  
  
"Yeah…"  
  
"And how exactly are you not interested in him?"  
  
"When did I say that?"  
  
"You said—"  
  
"I said he's not interested in me, and I'm not interested in getting hurt. Of course I like him. What girl wouldn't? Stupid badass persona. Always gets me."  
  
"Yeah," 18 sighed. "It's a bitch. That's why me liking Krillin is so weird."  
  
"How are you two, anyway?"  
  
"Great," she beamed, her face reddening slightly.  
  
"Kami, if I didn't know love I'd know it the minute I looked at you. I bet you're thinking of how great it feels to be in his arms, to kiss him, to grab him around the neck and give him a noogie."  
  
"What!?"  
  
"Oh come on! Don't tell me you haven't done that!"  
  
"I have not!"  
  
"Liar!" Bulma laughed.  
  
"Yeah…I know."  
  
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
"Why Bulma!?" Yamcha yelled, pointing an accusatory finger at her. "I don't understand!"  
  
"Because, Yamcha," she sighed, hoping against all odds that she could forget the anguish in his face at that moment. "I don't need you fighting my battles or claiming my prizes. If I want something I will go for it myself. I do not need you, of all people, to do things for me. Especially this. You stepped over the line."  
  
"But I don't get it. How can what I did be anything but good?"  
  
"Because, its desperate. I'm sorry, but it is. Subconsciously you believe that if I were to get close with him, I'd remember what a great time we had together, and, because you were kind enough to set me up with him—who I liked at the time—I'd want to be with you again…But Yamcha, you don't see what's there. I'm over you. I've moved on, and you need to do the same if you plan on having a life."  
  
"Even with all I've done," he stuttered slightly, his emotions beginning to take over, "I never thought I'd see the day when you could look me in the eye the way you just did and tell me you were completely over me."  
  
"I hope you can understand someday. And I know you think it's because of me, because of who I am. But its not! You have to believe that. I know I'm a strong person who can take a hell of a lot before I fall—Kami knows I did that with you—but I'm not stone. I break as easily as anyone…Yamcha, it's because of who WE were! Don't you see that? We were so perfect, so great for one another and, somehow, everything went wrong, no matter what I did. That's why I can be over you, because I knew it was over when we broke up, that we'd never be a couple again, and I accepted that, as hard as it was for me at the time." She paused for a moment and turned away, wiping at her eyes so her oncoming tears would stop. "Do you have any idea how many times I was close to forgiving you? To going back to you? To begging YOU to take ME back? I wasn't even a person after I left you. I was this ghost that just wandered around. I needed you to stay stable, and when I didn't have that anymore, when I realized what the situation was doing to me, I found the strength to be Bulma again, and to get over you. If you can't do the same, then I don't think we can be friends anymore…"  
  
"Bulma please, don't do this," he pleaded.  
  
"You know I have to. Please, call me when you know its right." Slowly she approached him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. "Don't think this means that I don't love you anymore, because I do. You're still my friend Yamcha, whether we're talking right now or not, and I will forever love you as a friend." She kissed his forehead lightly and headed for the door, all the while knowing that it could never be good-bye.  
  
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
Chi-Chi flew from her chair, batting wildly at the person who dared wake her. When her eyes focused enough to find their face, she took a deep breath and snapped, "What the hell, Maris? You trying to give me a heartattack?"  
  
"Sorry," the brown-haired girl sighed. "It's just your dad is here. He says you need to come home and get some sleep."  
  
"I'm not going anywhere," she said hotly, crossing her arms over her chest. "Not until Goku is better, and, as you can see—" She motioned to the bed he lay asleep in. "—he's not going anywhere for awhile."  
  
"But Chi—"  
  
"If my father wants me to come home so badly, he can come drag me out of here. But I refuse to go."  
  
"Chi," Maris sighed. She took a brave step forward, and when she found she was allowed to, moved closer and closer, until she had her friend in a tight embrace. "You're shaking. What's wrong?"  
  
"He could have died," Chi-Chi whispered into her shoulder. "I haven't even had a chance with him, and he could have died. I…I think I'm starting to fall in love with him, Mar', and I don't want to stop. I know he's famous, and probably too busy for me, but there's just something—"  
  
"I know what you mean."  
  
"17?"  
  
"Yeah. That guy's got me good, and I can't even begin to try to start something with him. He's the first guy that's ever had me stuck still and unable to do anything. I want to make a move, or give him a signal that I'm open for him to make a move, but I just can't. I don't get it."  
  
"That's exactly my problem!" Chi-Chi blurted out, then clamped her hand over her mouth. Slowly she glanced over at the bed. Goku was sound asleep, his chest rising and falling as he breathed. "I want so badly to be with him, to spent all my time with him, but there's that something that's keeping me stuck, as you said."  
  
"I think we need some help," Maris laughed, with a weak smile.  
  
"Yeah. I know what you mean. And I think Krillin and 18 are the only ones who can help in this department."  
  
"How are they going anyway?"  
  
"Fine I guess. They make me sick with their loviness."  
  
"18? Loviness?"  
  
"Yup. I think she's worse than him. They just—Sorry. I shouldn't be talking about them around you. It must be hard."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"You like Krillin, don't you?"  
  
"Yeah, but I know when I'm not right for a person. Come on, Chi. I think you've known me long enough to know that I'm virtually unbreakable when it comes to emotional wounds. Besides, I think with Krillin it was just a small crush. When 17 came into the picture, it was barely there anymore."  
  
"So it's ok if we go talk to them about our problem?"  
  
"Yes, of course. I think right now I'd do anything to get back to my old self. I've never had this much trouble communicating with another person before."  
  
"Do you think they're busy now?"  
  
"I don't know. We could call. Th—Hey, I thought you were going to stay 'til he got better."  
  
"Well, if I can work up the nerve to ask him out by talking with Krillin and 18, then I think I can leave for a little while. Besides, his Grandfather and agent are here. They'll tell him where I went."  
  
"You really do like the guy, don't you?"  
  
"If you only knew, Mar', if you only knew."  
  
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
"How long are visiting hours tonight?" Krillin asked, as he and 18 walked into the hospital.  
  
"I don't know," she sighed, slightly aggravated that neither Vegeta nor Goku would tell anyone what they discussed two nights ago. And add to that the stress of the accident itself, and Bulma's hostility about the little game she and Yamcha tried to play with her heart—it was no wonder she was having severe headaches. "We need to check the schedule for Thursday. I know Friday to Sunday is longer, but we may still have time."  
  
"You know he won't tell you, hun." As they passed through the elevator doors, a streak of black and brown came rushing at them. The doors clanged shut, and Chi-Chi and Maris slammed headlong into them, swearing loudly. "What the hell was that all about?"  
  
"I don't know, but your friends are weird. And what do you mean he won't tell me? How do you know?"  
  
"I'm just saying, he already said he wasn't going to. Vegeta won't tell anyone, and Goku doesn't feel he has a right. I don't think you'll get it out of him."  
  
"It had to be something important. Did you see what he looked like when he walked in there? I've never seen him like that before. Well, not since his dad died."  
  
"I think that's a clue," Krillin laughed, snaking his arm around his much taller girlfriend's waist. "Maybe he'll tell you in time, but right now I doubt it. I don't really know Goku or Vegeta, but Vegeta seems stubborn—" 18 grunted in agreement. "—and Goku seems loyal. So I don't think either will say a word for a long time."  
  
"What about Chi-Chi?"  
  
"What about her?"  
  
"Come on, think cue ball." Krillin grimaced. Already she'd found a nickname he hated. "Goku is head over heals for her. Don't you think if she asked, he might tell her? I mean, its worth a shot."  
  
"To mess with other people's lives? Don't you think you've done enough of that?"  
  
He regretted the words the second they passed his lips, and the look of hurt on 18's face was something he wasn't likely to forget for a very long time. Her entire demeanor shifted, and she moved out of his embrace to take hold of the bar on the elevator wall. When the doors jumped open, Chi-Chi and Maris were on the other side.  
  
"What do you guys want?" Krillin asked, trying to hide his uncomfortableness. Already they were having problems and they'd only been together less than a week. What if this didn't work out? What if they were too different? What if they couldn't handle the distance and long stretches without seeing each other?  
  
"Krillin?"  
  
"Uh, sorry, Chi. What'd you say?"  
  
"I said, we need to talk to you guys before you go in to see Goku. It's important."  
  
"What's it about?"  
  
"Goku."  
  
"And 17," Maris added, catching 18's attention.  
  
"What about my brother?"  
  
"You know I like him, 18. Please don't let your feelings for me get in the way of you accepting that."  
  
"What are you getting at?"  
  
"I still think you resent me."  
  
"What the hell are you talking about?" 18 hissed, completely forgetting her tiff with Krillin.  
  
"I mean you and Krillin. We agreed to let things go as they were and let them decide who they wanted, without our interference, and then you went ahead and told him you liked him. You deliberately went behind my back. Clearly you still don't like me." She sighed deeply, then added, "But it doesn't matter. I really like 17 and I want to start something with him, but I…can't."  
  
18's face softened and she wet her lips.  
  
"I don't hate you, Maris. I just…I couldn't stand by and let Krillin get away. You don't understand how it is for me. I have NEVER left this way about a guy, ever. I've liked guys and dated, but I've never woken up thinking about someone, wondering where they were or what they were doing. I couldn't let that slip away…I'm sorry I broke our pact."  
  
"It's fine," Maris said nonchalantly, waving her hand as if waving the situation away. "It's over and done and you guys are happy, clearly. And, through that, I realized that I want 17, and only 17. And I really need your help."  
  
"Both of you," Chi-Chi added, pulling herself and Krillin back into the conversation.  
  
"Both of us? What's the problem?"  
  
"We don't know how to…tell them we like them."  
  
"We freeze up," Maris elaborated.  
  
"How are we supposed to help with that?" Krillin asked. "We didn't have that problem."  
  
"Yes," 18 insisted. "We did. Well, I did." She turned to him, as if just noticing him. "I was scared stiff around you, Krillin. It was only after I knew for sure that Maris wanted you too that I found the nerve to do something about my feelings." She gave him a small peck on the cheek, then turned back to the needy girls. "I just don't know what I could do to help."  
  
"How do we tell them we want to be with them when we freeze every time we see them?"  
  
"How much do you like Goku?"  
  
"I don't—"  
  
"Ok. I'll say a word, you say the first thing that comes to mind. Ok?" Chi-Chi nodded. "Guitar."  
  
"Bass."  
  
"Worms."  
  
"Gummi."  
  
"Green."  
  
"Dragon."  
  
"Love."  
  
"Goku."  
  
18 smiled triumphantly and panted Chi-Chi on the shoulder. "Congrates," she laughed. "You love Goku Son."  
  
Chi-Chi gave her a small, private smile, then took off down the hall. It was now or never, and never wasn't on her agenda.  
  
"What about me?" Maris sighed.  
  
"I think you and my brother are having the same problem. He talks about you non-stop. I suggest you wait for him to make a move."  
  
"You think?"  
  
"If he doesn't ask you by Thanksgiving, I'll kick him in the teeth."  
  
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
"I don't know, Bulma," the girl on the other end of the phone said. "All I heard from you about him this summer was negative. Why would I want to go out with him?"  
  
"Because, Tsu, I know Yamcha, and he's a really good guy. The thing with me and him was a big mistake. We had crushed on each other and then after we went out for awhile we got too comfortable and didn't want to leave. I don't think we were ever really in love, but he is a good friend of mine."  
  
"But he cheated on you."  
  
"He did us both a favor. It was either him or me, and he found someone first. We were destined for that path."  
  
"Then he should have broken up with you, not cheated."  
  
"That wasn't an option. Look, Tsuki, I can't explain my relationship with Yamcha, past or present. I hardly understand it myself, and if I tried to explain it we'd both get confused. Let it suffice to say that he's a good guy that made a mistake, and he's more than paid for it. He knows he screwed up and he's already made amends with me."  
  
"And why would I want to date him?"  
  
"You two seem good for each other. You've both been with people for long periods of time. Both aren't virgins. Both like the same kind of music, books—Hell! Both of you love basketball. I think you're a good match."  
  
"But the cheating thing, I can't get over that."  
  
"Trust me, Tsu-Tsu, I know what I'm talking about. If you get hurt in anyway as a result of his stupidity, I give you permission to punch me in the face."  
  
"You mean it?" Tsuki laughed at the other end.  
  
"Cross my heart."  
  
"Alright then, it's a date."  
  
"Alright. Just be at The Lounge at 8:00 tomorrow night. I'll take care of Yamcha."  
  
"Oh, B, I just hope you know what you're doing."  
  
"Have I ever steered you wrong, cuz?"  
  
"Well, let's see…Shaving cream in the water balloons, tacking the substitute's chair, putting gum in Baiko Ryusaki's hair. Shall I continue?"  
  
"Everyone we did those things to deserved them, sheesh," Bulma chuckled. "We were purposely outnumbered in the water balloon fight, Miss Morioka slapped your hand with a ruler for getting a question wrong, and Baiko put gum in Chi-Chi's hair first. Besides, we had a ton of fun with that. And you'll have fun with Yamcha tomorrow night. I promise."  
  
"He better not try to grope me."  
  
"Good-bye Tsu."  
  
"Bye BB."  
  
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
---Chapter 16!!! Yay! Yay! Yay! Another one in the bag :P I hope everyone liked this one :D Not a lot happened, but a few big things did. I promise next time you'll see a lot more, and some of Vegeta, who I don't know how I didn't fit him into the chapter. He's on an emotional leave, or something, lol. I don't know. I have no excuse for that!!! :( He'll be back, I swear! :D  
  
REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (Reviews=More Chapters) Or you'll be forced to suffer my wrath! Muhahahaha!  
  
Next time: Chi-Chi and Goku action. And a Halloween party, woo! :D Oh, yeah, and the test results :P  
  
Note: Ok, I don't mean to sound snotty, but you people are ruthless, lol! :P I don't think I could make the chapters longer, and if you looked at most of the fics on this site, you'd see mine are some of the longest. I think they are sufficient.  
  
Don't worry, you'll find out about what Goku and Vegeta talked about in time.  
  
Tsuki is Bulma's cousin on her father's side. Her full first name is Tsuki, but Bulma calls her a range of names, many of which she used in their conversation. I just don't want anyone confused :P 


	17. Backdrop

Last time:  
  
"Good-bye Tsu."  
  
"Bye BB."  
  
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
"Three more days!" Bulma beamed as the group exited the school Wednesday afternoon, bags full to the brim with homework. Out of them all, Bulma was the only one who seemed the least bit excited about the upcoming holiday that didn't even get them off from school. "I can't wait you guys. This year is going to be great."  
  
"Just like last year?" Chi-Chi groaned, hefting her heavy bag into the trunk of Bulma's car. The other's followed suit, then climbed inside.  
  
"Shut up, Chi. You're just bitter. Always bitter. You need to loosen up about it."  
  
"What happened last year?" Maris inquired, though, as her friends turned with hard looks, she suddenly didn't feel the need to know so badly.  
  
"Chi-Chi had a bad time, that's all," Bulma sighed, as if that really were the issue. And, having only known the three friends for around two and a half months, she knew better than to believe Bulma's words. Not that she was a liar, but the situation just didn't seem to fit. Why would Chi-Chi be so upset if that were the only reason?  
  
"You can be a real bitch sometimes, you know that B?" Chi-Chi spat, crossing her arms rigidly.  
  
"I know."  
  
Krillin suddenly leaned over and whispered, "I'll tell you later," in Maris's ear, then settled himself once again. Maris could only imagine what kind of story he had for her.  
  
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
"The doctor didn't banish you to that chair, you know."  
  
"I know," Goku sighed, resting his cheek on his elbow.  
  
"What's eating you?"  
  
"I don't want to talk about it, Grandpa. Can I just be alone?"  
  
"Well, now!" the old man exclaimed, looking genuinely shocked. If Goku didn't know better, he might have fallen for it. "That doesn't sound like the Goku I raised. Alone? You've been around people all your life. What'd they ever do to you?"  
  
Goku have him a tired look, then set his eyes back on the far wall he'd been staring at for the past hour.  
  
"If you don't get out of that chair and out of my house in the next ten minutes, I'm calling Vegeta to come get you. And I won't let you back in until you're cured."  
  
Goku allowed a quiet laugh to escape his lips. How did he do it? No matter how much Goku didn't feel like talking, his Grandfather always seemed to bring him back in the mood. Or at least make him feel bad enough that he'd spill the beans. This time, fortunately, he did want to talk.  
  
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
Maris sat cross-legged on Krillin's bedroom floor, most of the length of her skirt tucked beneath her. Krillin sat across from her in his desk chair, absently pushing a paperclip around with a dull pencil. They'd been at his house ten minutes now, after being hastily dropped off my Bulma, who wasn't speaking to Chi-Chi, who had wanted to come to Krillin's, but was instead persuaded to go home and take a warm bath to calm her nerves. The only thing he'd said to Maris was that Bulma and Chi-Chi would be fine in the morning. Their little tiffs were necessary with the kind of close relationship they had. When Maris asked why, he laughed and said, "What would you rather have, Mar', a few tiny paper cuts or your hand cut off?"  
  
That said it all.  
  
"Are you going to tell me or not?" The look on his face told her she might have just over-stepped her boundaries. "Sorry."  
  
"It's ok," he sighed. "Just that I don't know that Chi would want me telling the story. She prefers to tell it, her own version. But I think she's still too bitter about the whole thing."  
  
"So she lies?"  
  
"Basically." He forced a laugh, then set down the pencil. "Look, there's one thing you have to understand about Chi-Chi. She's a very proud person. The birthday party thing was only a glimpse at how…strange she can be."  
  
"Nice choice of words."  
  
"When something embarrassing happens to her," he continued, "she takes it to heart and literally locks herself away for days. She can't stand being made fun of or having accidents happen that result in her embarrassment."  
  
"Like if she slipped on some water and landed on her butt?"  
  
"Exactly. I don't know what it is. Maybe her family life. She only lives with her father, and her mother died when she was very young. Other than us, her father is all she has, and she takes a great deal of pride in him. Which makes her really proud herself. There's not a lot that will really get to her, but when something does, watch out."  
  
"You wouldn't know by talking to her," Maris laughed, a little uneasily.  
  
"I know what you mean. I'll never forget the first time I embarrassed her. Last time too."  
  
"What happened?"  
  
"I'll tell you some other time." He glanced anxiously at his watch, then out his living room window.  
  
"Expecting someone?" she asked with a wide grin.  
  
He nodded sheepishly.  
  
"18?"  
  
"Yeah…"  
  
"You need to stop being embarrassed over her," she laughed. "She's your girlfriend for Kami's sake."  
  
"It's not that."  
  
"What then?"  
  
"It's just…she still makes me…I don't know…"  
  
"Oh!" Maris laughed, patting him on the back. "That's adorable Krill. You're so in love with her it makes me sick."  
  
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
Vegeta sighed heavily as he approached Goku's modest-looking house. Being a multi-millionaire, it didn't seem fitting that he should be living in such a small home, but it was what he liked, and his Grandfather had built it. The whole thing confused him utterly, and as he stepped onto the front porch, realized his thoughts about the house were only to hide himself from what he was truly feeling—embarrassment.  
  
Ever since the night at the hospital over a week ago, Vegeta had been overly distant from the group. This was the first time he'd seen any of them, let alone talked to them.  
  
He was just beginning to eat dinner, when the phone rang. It was Goku's Grandfather, and he sounded somewhat upset.  
  
"Can you come by tonight?" he asked, even before Vegeta said hello.  
  
"Old man?"  
  
"Goku's in a jam, Vegeta. You need to come by and talk to him."  
  
"About what?"  
  
"I'd rather not say. I talked to him for almost an hour and he's still not feeling like himself. I thought you could help."  
  
"How?" he grunted, setting down his sandwich. A sorry dinner anyway. "18's better at that stuff. Hell! Even 17 is better than I am. Call them."  
  
He was about to hang up the phone when his Grandfather said, "He asked for you, Vegeta." And then the phone went dead.  
  
Now, as the words seemed to echo through his mind, Vegeta felt slightly guilty. He knew Goku had been off lately, and he didn't pretend to be dumb about the reason. Ever since he'd met Chi-Chi his whole little universe seemed to be off balance, and when Vegeta heard he was keeping to himself after the accident, he immediately knew why.  
  
Guilt and embarrassment. Two subjects Vegeta knew little about in his everyday life. The latter bothered him more, however, for it was obvious to everyone. They all knew he'd had a secret discussion with Goku, one he'd been urgent, if not desperate, to have. The details of that night were still fresh in his mind, down to every last word of their conversation. No one had asked him about it as of now, but that didn't mean they weren't asking. He had a strong suspicion that Goku was their aim and he'd been badgered ever since.  
  
More guilt.  
  
With another sigh, he knocked on the front door.  
  
Stop thinking about it, he told himself. The worst thing for him to do right now what think about the foreign feeling he was having. He already had too much on his plate as it was.  
  
"Hey Vegeta."  
  
He was surprised to see Goku on the other side of the door.  
  
"Watch out, your eyes might fall out."  
  
"Shut up Kakarot."  
  
"I take it you're still worried about me."  
  
"Don't push it. I'm not about to give your grandpa a heart attack because you're lovesick."  
  
"Hungry?"  
  
Vegeta grunted and walked across the threshold. Damn him for knowing him so well.  
  
"I'm fine, in case you haven't noticed."  
  
"No, I think you're going to be permanently insane. Not that it's a change, of course."  
  
"Right," Goku laughed. He reached into the fridge and pulled out a pizza box. "It's only from last night."  
  
Vegeta nodded and took a seat.  
  
"I mean it though," Goku continued, slipping the six pieces of pizza onto a plate and putting it in the microwave. He was far too tired to heat it up in the oven, the way he liked it best. "I'm ok."  
  
"I can see that," Vegeta said monotone, motioning towards his cast. Not wanting to seem helpless, Goku used his crutches only when absolutely necessary. In this case, only moving slightly around the kitchen, he could manage with little hops and minimal pressure on the bad leg. And he was of course using his right hand for everything.  
  
"You know what I mean." He looked away, almost ashamed. "Chi-Chi. You know the situation."  
  
"You're still too chicken to ask her? Kami!"  
  
"It's not that."  
  
"What then? Waiting for her to ask you? Or some other ridiculous thing of that nature?"  
  
"She wants to," he whispered, pulling the plate from the microwave. Vegeta only looked at the food now, as if their conversation was over. "I know she does. She came running into my hospital room last week, about out of breath. I could have sworn she was going to ask me then. But when she opened her mouth, she said was racing Maris back upstairs. But it didn't make any sense! Maris went home, she never came back that night."  
  
"Well ask her then. If it's that damn obvious," Vegeta grunted. He grabbed his plate of three slices that Goku set up for him, and began devouring it.  
  
Goku didn't touch his food.  
  
"What?"  
  
"I don't know that I can."  
  
"And why not?"  
  
"What if she was going to ask me, but didn't because she realized she didn't like me anymore?"  
  
"In five minutes?" Vegeta laughed, taking another bite. "Right, that's extremely likely. I think you hit the nail on the head, Kakarot. Perfect. You didn't need me at all."  
  
"Stop pestering me Vegeta," Goku snarled.  
  
"Your grandfather called me to help you, correct?"  
  
Goku nodded.  
  
"Well what the hell do you think I'm doing? Telling you lies? She wants you Kami damn it. It's so obvious. Just ask her. If you don't, I'll tell her you're too afraid to."  
  
"Vegeta!"  
  
"Good then. I expect I'll hear all about it from Bulma."  
  
"How are things between you guys anyway?"  
  
"She still won't let me touch her," Vegeta sighed. "Stupid wench."  
  
"Sounds to me like she's being wise."  
  
"She's being a prude."  
  
"No, you're being a stereotypical jackass. I think she has reason enough to keep her distance."  
  
"Like what?"  
  
"Like everything you've ever done."  
  
"Kami." He threw down the piece of pizza he'd been working on and gave a big huff. "I'm going. Call me when you can walk."  
  
"If you don't watch out she's going to start falling for you."  
  
"I have everything under control, Kakarot."  
  
"And if she does?"  
  
Vegeta didn't respond.  
  
"I'll tell you. If she falls for you and you're still treating her like shit, then I'll personally make you feel the same. I'm not going to let you hurt another innocent girl, especially since I know her."  
  
"It's not going to happen. You know how all the other girls are. They never really liked me, just my fame. I know what I'm doing."  
  
He was almost to the front door when Goku caught up with him, his leg hobbling awkwardly.  
  
"But she's not like all the other girls, Vegeta."  
  
Without replying, Vegeta left the house and climbed into his car, all the while knowing that Goku was right, but that he had no intention of stopping his quest with Bulma. The guilt panged in him once more before he started the engine.  
  
"I'm not going to let petty things get to me," he muttered, pulling out of the driveway. If he'd only listened to the strange emotion, he might have been able to prevent the biggest mistake of his life.  
  
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
Bulma rolled over and grabbed her bedside phone. When she answered, she was surprised at who was on the other end.  
  
"18?" she stammered. "Why the hell are you calling me at 2:00 AM? I have school tomorrow, you know. Unlike some rock stars."  
  
"He's not a father," she blurted out excitedly.  
  
Bulma was silent.  
  
"Bulma? Did you hear me?"  
  
"Yeah," she forced out. "I heard you."  
  
"Well?"  
  
"Well it's none of my business," she spat. "Look, I appreciate the concern, 18. But I have this…thing with Vegeta well under control. I'm not going to get involved with him, even if that stuff with Sen was all a farce. I'll talk to you later when I'm not so cranky."  
  
"Alright," she sighed. "How did that date with Yamcha and your cousin go, by the way? He mentioned it to me when I told him about the test results."  
  
"You knew for that long?"  
  
"I've been busy, Kami."  
  
Bulma only rolled her eyes. Celebrities. Even when they're temporarily off work, they still have things to do.  
  
"Well?"  
  
"They really hit it off, I guess. They both called me the next day and told me they were planning another date. This weekend I think."  
  
"Well that's good."  
  
"Why are you so interested in Yamcha, anyway?"  
  
"He grew on me, ok? It's not like you're not friends with him, you know."  
  
"I know. It just seems odd though, that you'd be friends with him."  
  
"Not really. But I'll leave you alone now. Sorry I called so late. It just sort of hit me that I hadn't told you yet."  
  
"It's alright. I'll talk to you later, 18."  
  
"Ok. Bye."  
  
"Night."  
  
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
"Woo!" Bulma cried, standing on a chair in her living room, her arms raised high above her head. "An hour 'til party time!"  
  
"I wish she wouldn't do that," Chi-Chi mutter to Krillin, who nodded in agreement.  
  
"What're you two whispering about, eh?" Bulma laughed, jumping down and walking towards them, bright red wig still looking startling to her friends.  
  
"Nothing B," Krillin said.  
  
"Call me Lucy," Bulma joked, checking her blue polka dot dress in full-length living room mirror. "And I'll call you Dr. Roshi." She then turned to Chi-Chi and Maris, who both donned blonde wigs, though Maris's was pull up into a long ponytail. "We're straight from the black and white era, ladies. Lucy, Samantha, and Jeannie."  
  
"Makes you wonder what the other's are coming as," Maris laughed. "I can't imagine 18 or Vegeta taking this seriously."  
  
Krillin gave a knowing smile, and turned to get a soda from the kitchen. He didn't make it that far, however, when all three girls toppled him to the floor, demanding to know what he knew.  
  
"I'm not telling," he insisted, struggling to get free, just as Green Dragon walked through the door.  
  
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
---Chapter 17! YAY! There you have it, another one in the bag. I know not too much happened, but it's all sort of leading up to Chapter 18. Trust me!  
  
REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (Reviews=More Chapters) And more limbs…  
  
Next time: Halloween party…Hmm…I wonder what Vegeta is wearing :P  
  
P.S. I'm 12:30 am…Deal with typos :P 


	18. At The DriveIn

Last time:  
  
Krillin gave a knowing smile, and turned to get a soda from the kitchen. He didn't make it that far, however, when all three girls toppled him to the floor, demanding to know what he knew.  
  
"I'm not telling," he insisted, struggling to get free, just as Green Dragon walked through the door.  
  
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
The mock small screen TV stars stared on in utter amazement, their breath caught in their throats, as their four newest friends entered the living room, each wearing an equally puzzling costume. 18's seemed to be the least confusing of them all, however, for she matched Krillin's outfit perfectly; she was the stereotypical sexy nurse, complete with shiny white stilettos and a stethoscope.  
  
Everyone's eyes seemed to drift towards the scrubbed-up doctor, his eyes bulging at the sight of her. Whatever he knew before, he was definitely no expecting this!  
  
"Kami!" Maris suddenly blurted out, startling Bulma/Lucy and Chi-Chi/Samantha. "17, you're Major Healey! How'd you know I was coming as Jeannie!?"  
  
"I received an anonymous, confidential tip," he replied, his voice deeper than usual. "I couldn't let the information reach the wrong hands. I was forced to keep it to myself." He sauntered suavely over to Maris, who couldn't seem to contain her giggles. They were perfect for the costumes they wore. What the hell was keeping them apart!?  
  
Next to draw attention to himself was Goku, who was barely recognizable under his large, hairy outfit.  
  
Chi-Chi couldn't help her howling laughter.  
  
"Ape boy," she chuckled. "I should have known."  
  
Goku was dressed in none other than a common gorilla costume, the only part of him showing were his eyes, from tiny holes in the mask.  
  
"Me Goku," he grunted. "You witch." And with no warning, he hobbled straight for her, scooping her off the ground with his good arm and into the kitchen. Everyone's voices seemed to compete with one another as they laughed, eyes tearing at the hilarious, yet affectionate, display. Everyone, that is, except for Bulma. She could now fully see Vegeta's costume, which astonished her in the first place because he wore one, and secondly because of how amazing he looked.  
  
Vegeta Ouji, of Green Dragon, was attending Bulma Briefs Halloween Party, in the sexiest outfit she could have possibly imagined. He looked as though he was straight from the 1920's, decked out in a three piece pin-striped suit, shiny black shoes, and to top it all off, a matching hat. He was an all out gangster, and he had the smirk to prove it. If it hadn't been obvious who he was—because of his companions—Bulma might not have realized it was him, the debonair and alluring Roaring '20s Gangster, loosely holding a fake Tommy gun at his side.  
  
He stood still for a moment, his eyes making contact with Bulma's, and then, charmingly, he tipped his hat to her and made his way to a chair in the far corner. If her house exploded at that moment, she doubted she'd have noticed.  
  
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
"Kami!" Chi-Chi yelled, pointing at the clock, her perfectly fitted blonde wig now discarded somewhere in Bulma's house. "It's one o'clock in the morning already? I'm not even tired."  
  
"That's how it goes," Bulma laughed. She was thoroughly enjoying herself. Not only did everyone dress up, but all thirty-six people she invited showed up. AND her parents agreed to stay the night at a hotel and let her have the house to herself. Even Yamcha came, though he protested at first.  
  
Bulma glanced over at him, standing against a far wall, punch in hand, talking in Tsuki's ear. They were so absolutely adorable together. Even without the costumes. Yamcha was Robin Hood, and Tsuki came as a bright red crayon, minus the face paint. She always did adore that about her cousin, how she didn't care what others thought so long as she was having fun and everything was getting along. And everyone was having fun tonight. Bulma hadn't heard one complaint about the party, and everyone's faces were all smiles.  
  
Even Vegeta carried a small smile on his lips. And, even if it was only to try to entice her, the way he'd been trying since they met, she didn't care. She liked to see him smile, especially since he was rumored to never smile.  
  
"Having fun?" someone ask him Bulma's ear, their arm snaking around her shoulders. When she looked up it was Major Healey.  
  
"Hey 17," she said, moving over a little on the bench she'd brought up from the storage basement. He obliged and took a seat. "Is this good enough for a wild rock star like you?"  
  
"It'll do," he laughed. "You looked kind of lonesome, sitting over here all by yourself. Thought I'd come see what's going on."  
  
"Nothing. I like to watch other people at my parties, you know, to see if I'm being a good hostess and such. I'll join everyone again in a few minutes."  
  
"I see."  
  
"So, where's Maris? I don't see the other blonde anywhere."  
  
"Bathroom. Apparently it wasn't clear how hot the hot wings were."  
  
"Oh! That's right!" Bulma gasped, then gave way to laughter. "I completely forgot about that…Oh well. You should expect hot wings all the time, I think."  
  
"Well I'm not you," Maris snapped playfully, as she advanced towards them. "My tongue was nearly singed off!"  
  
"Right. Let me see."  
  
She stuck her tongue out, pointing at where she thought she was burnt.  
  
"Wow, we better get you to the Emergency Room!" Bulma laughed, rolling her eyes. "You two behave," she added playfully. "I'm going to join the party now."  
  
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
"I'm setting ground rules," Bulma said, almost acidly, as she shut her bedroom door and removed her Lucy wig. She shook her hair out a few times before continuing. "No hickies. No groping. No going beneath my clothing. And NO sex. Of any kind. Is that clear?"  
  
Vegeta only laughed from his place on Bulma's bed, leaning back on his hands, his hat somewhere on the floor.  
  
"You have to agree if I'm going to take another step."  
  
"I don't know what it is about you," he said, still laughing. He removed his jacket, revealing that he was wearing suspenders—a major turn-on for Bulma—then rolled up his sleeves to nearly the elbows. "There's something though. I want to bend and break your little safety rules, but I'm not going to. You, woman, are the only girl who can say I've done that for them."  
  
"I'm honored," she snorted sarcastically, finally making her way towards him.  
  
"Why are you so snotty with me?"  
  
"You deserve it."  
  
"I didn't do anything to you."  
  
"Shut up," she sighed, taking a seat on his lap, her arms snaking around his neck. "You're so unattractive when you talk."  
  
"Whoa, whoa, woman. If I didn't know better, I'd say you've picked up something from me."  
  
"Does that bother you?"  
  
But before he could answer, her lips captured his, passionately, her entire body yielding to him for a moment. But she wouldn't allow herself the same weakness she allowed with Yamcha a few weeks back. It was different with Yamcha, her ex-boyfriend for so many years. Vegeta, a famous rock star, and practically a stranger, was not someone she could just "get caught up in the moment with," or so she liked to believe.  
  
"When do you go back to work?" Bulma asked suddenly, pulling her head back. Vegeta almost didn't hear the question.  
  
"When Kakarot can walk," he said quickly, then immediately dove for her neck.  
  
"You make me want to break all the rules," she whispered as he nibbled affectionately on her collarbone.  
  
"They're your rules," he reminded her, placing a small kiss on her chin.  
  
"I know…But if I don't have them, then what do I have?"  
  
"A very capable rock star in your bed."  
  
"You're insufferable."  
  
"Thanks."  
  
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
"Trust me," Chi-Chi said hotly. "No one will come in here. These rooms never get used."  
  
"I hope you're right," Goku breathed. He'd long ago discarded his gorilla outfit, for his plain white tee-shirt and slightly baggy jeans. "I just don't want Bulma to get angry—"  
  
"That's the last thing that could happen. Besides, didn't I see her and Vegeta go upstairs a little while ago?"  
  
"They did!?" For a moment the prospect of what he and Chi-Chi were doing faded into the background.  
  
"Yeah," she laughed. "I guess they think no one knows about their secret affair."  
  
"But Vegeta's always telling me how—excuse my wording—how much of a 'stuck-up prude' she is."  
  
"Bulma!? Right. That'll be the day. She's completely capable in the bedroom. Believe me. I've heard a lot of stories from her about Yamcha. And some from him too."  
  
"Yeah, but Vegeta's a whole different game."  
  
"She can handle herself. Trust me." She then snaked her arms around his waist and tugged him gently into the vacant guestroom, her entire manner seductive and forceful, but careful of his injuries.  
  
They stumbled into the bedroom, kissing each other vigorously the whole way, and removing certain outer garments hastily and a bit clumsily—and Goku's casts were not helping the matter much either. It wasn't until they were positioned on the bed, Chi-Chi lying atop Goku, that he stopped his fevered kissing and looked her straight in the eyes.  
  
"Chi, I can't do this unless—"  
  
"I know," she whispered, knowing exactly what he needed. "Goku, I only want you."  
  
He smiled genuinely up at her and said, "And I only want you."  
  
Neither mentioned it was their first time.  
  
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
Bulma drove like a bat out of Hell down Highway 9, her only passenger clinging helplessly to his seat. She laughed vociferously as he couldn't force himself to remain calm and "macho" in front of her. And she couldn't believe that not everyone liked to drive this fast. Oh well, at least she didn't have to do this alone.  
  
"So," she said, finally adjusting her speed to nearly match the speed limit. "Did 18 tell you about her meddling?"  
  
"Yeah," 17 said, giving way to a deep sigh of relief. "She really got a verbal lashing from Vegeta and his mother for it too. They were furious. Relieved, but furious."  
  
"About going behind his back?"  
  
"No," he laughed. "About him not being a father. Of course about going behind his back. Mrs. Ouji was only mad for a minute though. She was too excited about the truth to stay mad."  
  
"And Vegeta?"  
  
"I'm told he called Sen right after 18 left and bitched her out too for everything she'd done. But everything is better now. She won't be hanging on our shoulders about her baby and we won't have to worry about the band going down the drain. The thing with Goku's accident we can survive. Fans understand that. He gets bags full of Get Well cards everyday. But Vegeta being a father and abandoning the mother and child? We'd be ruined. Forever…Yeah, even though 18 didn't go about it conventionally, I'm glad she did it. Someone had to."  
  
"She tell you the whole story?"  
  
"What'd you mean?"  
  
"It was Yamcha's idea."  
  
"Your ex?"  
  
"The only one," she grunted. "I still can't believe it. What right does he have meddling in everything? Especially with people he doesn't even know? I don't get it. Sure, he thought he was doing the right thing. But did it ever occur to him that he was doing something wrong?"  
  
"What were his reasons?"  
  
"He said he wanted to get me and Vegeta together, and figured if I knew he wasn't a father, I'd jump him instantly."  
  
"But you didn't?"  
  
"Of course not. What he's done in the past is of no consequence to me. If I wanted to be with him, I'd be with him. Neither of them understand that it's Vegeta that's keeping me from him."  
  
"So you want to be with him?"  
  
"No, I don't. He makes me not want to."  
  
"Oh, I see." There was a long silence, and then 17 broke it with an offhand question. "So, what exactly are we looking for? Besides a birthday present."  
  
"I don't know," Bulma groaned. "My mother is so hard to shop for. Every year I buy her something and she smiles and hugs me, but I never get that huge smile and big eyes. I want to shock her this year."  
  
"Sounds simple," 17 laughed. "And just where do you think you'll find something like that?"  
  
"You'll see…"  
  
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
"Kuso!" Bulma swore, pressing her back against the elevator wall, her hand holding 17 at arm's length away from her. "What the hell was that?"  
  
"Kami," 17 mumbled. "I'm sorry."  
  
"No, I'm not yelling at you. Just…What are we doing? You and Maris are…well…you could…"  
  
"I can't talk to her the way I can with you, Bulma. I really like her, Kami, I may even love her, I don't know. But I can't talk to her. I freeze up. I choke. I go stiff. I can't do it."  
  
"And by kissing me you are…what?"  
  
"I like you."  
  
"Oh Kami," Bulma gasped under her breather. "I like you too, 17. But I think we're not right. I mean, I think you and Maris are better for each other. And—"  
  
"You and Vegeta?"  
  
"I didn't say that."  
  
"But you were thinking it."  
  
"How can I possibly have a relationship with that ape?"  
  
"Point taken."  
  
"Look. Let's get out of here. Go to a movie and forget the whole thing, ok?"  
  
"Alright," he sighed, hanging his head. "What movie?"  
  
"Doesn't matter. I just like going to the drive-in."  
  
"A drive-in!?" 17 all but yelled. "Kami! I've always wanted to go to a drive-in!"  
  
"Great," she said with a wide smile. "You'll love it."  
  
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
The movie was called Desperate Love, a story about two people who can't keep themselves away from each other because they're forced away from the other two people they're truly in love with. Heart-breaking and dark, the story is set in a small town in the 1950's.  
  
But the passengers of Bulma's car didn't see the plot, for they were living it, at that moment, and the movie was only noise in the background.  
  
"Kami," Bulma gasped, her chest heaving, the weight of 17 on top of her confining and exhilarating. So much more forceful than Yamcha, but not so rough as Vegeta. he was the perfect middle. "Where did you learn to kiss like that?"  
  
"I've kissed others before," he whispered playfully, blowing on her ear. "I hope that's not a problem for you."  
  
"Not at all," she laughed, pulling his head back down.  
  
Fortunately, however, they realized what they were doing just in time. Bulma's simple button-up white shirt was completely open, and her fingers were still holding 17's zipper, which was halfway down, when they both stopped their ministrations and moved away from each other. Bulma quickly buttoned her shirt back up, and 17 zipped his pants, a hot red blush painted on both their cheeks.  
  
17 was the first to speak.  
  
"I'm sorry," he whispered, turning his head away.  
  
"Don't be. It was both of us."  
  
"Not just that," he sighed. "I…I gave you a hickey."  
  
"What!?" Bulma roared, grabbing frantically at the visor mirror as she tried to scramble back into the front seat. "Kuso…Oh well. It's getting colder. I can wear a turtleneck without people being suspicious."  
  
"What're we going to do?"  
  
"We're going to build your confidence, that's what we're going to do."  
  
"Excuse me?"  
  
"With Maris. I'm going to help you talk to her."  
  
"Bulma, I don't think—"  
  
"It's worth a try."  
  
"Why are you so convinced that me and you aren't right for each other?"  
  
"Because," she sighed. "I lied before…I do want to be with Vegeta…I just…"  
  
"Can't bring yourself to be put in a situation like that?"  
  
"Like what?"  
  
"Of being hurt."  
  
"Yeah…"  
  
"We're not going to tell anyone about this, are we?"  
  
"Kami no! Do you have any idea how many people we'd piss off?"  
  
"True."  
  
"Now let's shut up and watch the rest of the movie."  
  
"Great idea."  
  
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
---Chapter 18! Oh yeah! Alright! Oh yeah, yeah, yeah! Now I KNOW this one is going to get me some interesting reviews :D Let's hope they're all good.  
  
REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (Reviews=More Chapters) …I'm like George Washington…I cannot tell a lie.  
  
Next time: BAAAAAAAAH! Too much! Too much! Must…keep…secret…  
  
Note: Lazy…blah…blah…  
  
Doesn't it just erk you that Bulma and 17 got farther than her and Vegeta? Grrrrrrrrrrowl! 


	19. Pandora's Box

Last time:  
  
"Now let's shut up and watch the rest of the movie."  
  
"Great idea."  
  
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
Bulma woke up just as the sun completed its arch across the morning sky. Rays of light broke through the half open shades, casting parallel lines across the floor and bed. She glanced at the clock on her bedside table and smiled. It was 7:00 am, just the time she wanted to get up.  
  
"Perfect," she whispered, pulling her rested body out of bed and into the bathroom. A long hot shower was just what she needed before a morning of hard work in the lab. A perfect Sunday.  
  
Throwing on a plain white tank top and a pair of baggy overalls, Bulma made her way to the kitchen for a light breakfast. Her mother was there, of course, the skillet already sizzling with bacon and eggs. The smell was intoxicating, but she didn't have time. Not if she wanted to get her self-made work list complete.  
  
"Just in time," Mrs. Briefs said cheerfully, pointing to the stove.  
  
"No thanks," Bulma mumbled around a mouthful of apple. "I need to get to the lab. My mind's buzzing this morning."  
  
"You need food for energy."  
  
"I need to be in my lab before I explode."  
  
"Fine," she sighed, in that motherly way that always seemed to make Bulma feel bad. "But you're coming up for lunch."  
  
"Alright. Alright. I promise."  
  
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
"Bulma dear," came her mother's high voice as she advanced down the hall towards the lab. Bulma sighed in annoyance and dropped her screwdriver, a loud clanging noise echoing through her lab. Not only was her project giving her more trouble than she expected, but now she was being interrupted and it was only 11:00.  
  
"Kami," she muttered, picking up the tool and setting it on her workbench. "Yes mom?"  
  
"There's someone here to see you," Mrs. Briefs said, poking her head into the room.  
  
"Mom! I'm filthy!"  
  
But, just as the words flew from her mouth, Vegeta entered the lab, a smug smile already gracing his lips. He said something incoherent to her mother and she left the room, leaving them alone.  
  
"Don't say a word," Bulma warned as she grabbed a rag to semi-wipe grease from her hands. She knew there was more on her face and clothes, but didn't bother with it. It was no use. He was already there and could see what a complete mess she was.  
  
"Say what?" he asked, playing innocent.  
  
"I know I look like shit. You caught me working. Not good."  
  
"Actually…it's kind of sexy. All dirty and sweaty and worked up. Makes me want to—"  
  
"Shut up?" she opted, then stood and tossed the rag on the workbench. "What'd you come over for? Don't you have anything better to do than bother me?"  
  
"Like what?"  
  
"I don't know," she said, exasperated. "Maybe a date. You look sexually frustrated."  
  
"You're the only one who can help with that," he said huskily.  
  
"So, you're not a dad?" She knew the only way to keep him off the subject of their non-relationship was to bring up something that would set him off. If this case, however, he only smiled and nodded. "What? No yelling? My, my, I do believe you are beginning to grow up."  
  
"How long are you going to be busy with your tinker toys?"  
  
"Excuse me?" Bulma hissed. Not only had she been interrupted, and by Vegeta no less, who she was constantly at odds with even with all the desire she had for be—but now he was calling her hard work "tinker toys", something he couldn't even begin to understand how to comprehend? "I hope I didn't just hear what I thought I heard."  
  
"I think you did," he said smugly.  
  
"Get out of my lab."  
  
"No."  
  
"Vegeta…"  
  
"Why not prove me wrong then. Show me how 'advanced' your toys are. It'd really put me in my place." He smiled viciously, and held his hand out.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Shake?"  
  
"Whatever," she grumbled, shaking his hand quickly. "I'll give you a tour and show you my projects, but I need a shower first."  
  
"I'll say."  
  
"I'm warning you."  
  
"Ooo…sassy!"  
  
"Uh!"  
  
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
Bulma and Vegeta roamed around Capsule Corp. compound for nearly an hour, with Bulma stopping in all the labs and offices to show him around. She even went so far as to give him a tour of the house portion, even though she knew he'd seen most of it at the party a few nights ago. When they stopped in the kitchen for lunch, Bulma realized why she was showing him every mundane detail of her home and workplace. She didn't want to run out of things to talk about, didn't want him to think she was boring and then leave for good. Because, as much as she would have protested it to him, she never wanted him to be out of her life. Even as just a friend, she knew she wanted him around indefinitely.  
  
If only she knew he wanted the exact same thing.  
  
"What next?" Vegeta asked, mocking her mother's high shrill voice.  
  
Bulma couldn't help but laugh.  
  
"I showed you everything I could think of. All my projects, the building, everything. So, unless you want to learn how to build the things I build, there's no use going back to the labs. They're boring, or so I've heard, when you don't know what to do."  
  
"I take it science comes easy then," he muttered. He hated science, though only because he was so terrible at it. That, and his mother really didn't have the knowledge or resources to teach him properly. His science lessons consisted of Discovery Channel essays and a vegetable garden in the back yard.  
  
"Yeah. I got that from my dad." She leaned in slightly and took a sip from her iced tea with her straw, subconsciously pulling at the neck of her turtleneck sweater to stay up. She was damn lucky Vegeta had been too interested in annoying her earlier to notice the rather large love bite on her neck, covered only slightly by her hair. "I built a small remote controlled spider, with a stream of fishing line coming out the back like a web when I was five. I think that's younger then my dad was when he built his first machine. But technology was primitive then. And he is the most brilliant and famous scientist in the world. Creator of the capsules…Kami, if only I could be as great as he is."  
  
Vegeta bit his lip and narrowed his brow. He wasn't comfortable in situations like this. If he was going to win her over, then the best thing for him to do was not comment on what she'd just said. Or else he might find himself kicked out of the house for insulting her, which was very likely to happen. And this time, with this girl, pissing her off was the last thing on his mind. Small jabs were fine. Necessary even. But he wanted to stay on speaking terms.  
  
Perhaps that was another reason for his nervousness. He'd never wanted a girl more than he wanted Bulma right now, and if that meant keeping his mouth shut, then he was going to do it. No matter how awkward and unnatural it felt to him.  
  
"Vegeta?"  
  
He shook his head as if to shake his ideas away and looked up. Apparently she'd been speaking to him and he hadn't heard.  
  
"Are you alright?"  
  
"I'm fine. What did you say?" he demanded.  
  
"I was just babbling. But hey, we're done with lunch. And I just remembered one project I forgot to show you. I think you'll really like this one. And I can show you the spider I made when I was little."  
  
"Fun, fun."  
  
"Oh stop. I really meant it, I think you're going to like it."  
  
"It better not be another machine with a 500 letter name that I can't pronounce that does something so completely useless that the name for it is made up."  
  
"I promise, no more Detransagramictoppotopicmogrophiers," Bulma laughed as she stood and offered Vegeta her arm. He took it, reluctantly, then allowed himself to be led down the hall, around the corner, down another hall, into an elevator that went below the basement, down another shorter hall, and into Bulma's private lab. He wondered absently how she remembered where to go and not get lost.  
  
She left him standing in the middle of the room, told him to stay put and not touch anything while she retrieved her two projects, both of which were in far back cabinets and hadn't been seen, let alone used, in years. It took several minutes to even find the objects, then a few more to pull them carefully from the shelves. Even with her expert craftsmanship, she was still worried about breaking the old machines.  
  
First, she brought over the CD sized spider toy, set it on the floor at Vegeta's feet, and handed him the remote.  
  
"I don't believe you," he said as he began to maneuver the bot around in circles.  
  
"What?"  
  
"I don't believe you made this when you were five."  
  
"Five and a half," she admitted, blushing.  
  
"I mean you couldn't have made this when you were a kid. It's impossible."  
  
"I'm a savant, Vegeta. I excel in almost everything."  
  
"Modest too."  
  
"Shut up. I'm just telling the truth."  
  
"What else do you have?"  
  
"Hang on," she grumbled. She snatched the remote from his hands and stomped to her workbench, where the other machine was sitting. Vegeta didn't recognize it in the least. Though, he hadn't recognized hardly any of the things Bulma showed him either. "Here."  
  
She handed him a small square metal box covered in what appeared to be trapdoors and hinges, though when he tried to pry them open, he couldn't fit his fingernails in the cracks.  
  
"What the hell is it?" he demanded, glaring angrily at the contraption.  
  
"Pandora's Box," she said triumphantly.  
  
"Don't tell me you have evil in here. Is that where it comes from?"  
  
She slapped him on the arm and shook her head in disappointment. Only great minds like hers could appreciate something like this.  
  
"It works like a capsule," she explained, in slight agitation. "Except you need codes to open it, and there are codes on top of codes on top of codes. Very complex, and it only has one computer chip to store all the information."  
  
"What can you put in it?" He eyed it suspiciously.  
  
"Actually," she laughed. "That's exactly why you'll like it. All it is is a small refrigerator. The only reason I put all the codes on it was for a challenge, to see if I could. But, when I give it to you, I'll make it so it only has one master password, or maybe just a fingerprint scanner or voice activator. Something simple."  
  
"Wait, you're giving me this?" She nodded. "How long did it take you to make?"  
  
"Two weeks maybe."  
  
"You're a strange woman," he laughed. "But how the hell am I supposed to carry it?"  
  
"I told you it was like a capsule. Well, a double capsule. You put stuff inside the chambers, and then with another code you can fold it up into a regular capsule shape. Simple."  
  
"Simple," he repeated. "Yeah, sounds it."  
  
"It is. Here." She grabbed the box and walked over to her workbench, motioning for him to take a seat on the stool beside her. "I'll show you. I'll switch all the codes now. What do you want? Keypad? Voice? Or Fingerprints?"  
  
"Voice," he said, a little stunned. This was going to take forever!  
  
"Ok," she said. "And don't you worry. I'll have you out of here in two hours, I promise. Then later I'll take you out for pizza."  
  
"You're amazing," he said under his breath, seemingly without even thinking it.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Nothing."  
  
"Alright…"  
  
But she'd heard him perfectly.  
  
And her heart seemed to stop.  
  
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
Krillin, Maris, 17, and 18 sat around a small card table in Maris's basement, their faces stone cold, their voices silent. It was their fifth hand of poker, and now everyone seemed to be taking Maris seriously, for when she offered to play the game, she meant for real, and ruthlessly. Already she'd banked nearly half of everyone's chips, her pile slowly growing, theirs slowly shrinking.  
  
"Let's see what everyone has," Maris said, eyeing them suspiciously. 17 flinched and looked away. He couldn't stop thinking about the kiss he'd shared with Bulma the day before, and the uneasy feeling it left with him. Of course he'd enjoyed it, and Bulma was a wonderful girl, maybe even someone he would continuing pursuing…if not for Maris. Even the way she was taking control of the card game gave him those love chills. Kami he hoped no one found out about their weakness together. Surely it would ruin all chances with Maris. He didn't want to be tainted for her. He— "17?"  
  
"Huh?" He shook his head and looked up at Maris, who seemed a bit annoyed.  
  
"What do you have?"  
  
"Two pair," he muttered, laying his cards down.  
  
"Flush," she said triumphantly, and pooled the money towards her, ready to deal again.  
  
"None for me."  
  
"Excuse me?"  
  
17 stood and pushed in his chair, leaving his unused chips on the table.  
  
"I'm done for tonight. I think I'm going to go home."  
  
"But it's only 7:30. Come on, we're just getting warmed up!"  
  
"No thanks. I'll see you guys later."  
  
"Alright," Maris sighed, looking hurt. "Call me later, ok?"  
  
"Sure."  
  
He was almost to his car, when 18 came rushing out the front door and nearly tackled him into the driver's side door.  
  
"What the hell, sis!?" he snapped, pushing her back. "You scared the shit out of me."  
  
"Sorry," she said, breathing deeply from her mad dash outside. When her breathing was normal, she continued. "But what the hell was that little episode about?" She smacked him on the side of the head and frowned. "We've been here twenty minutes and you're leaving? Do you have any idea how hurt Maris was when you left like that? She didn't have to say anything. She just dealt the cards, didn't even try to psych us out."  
  
"What the hell are you talking about, 18?"  
  
"I'm talking about how rude that was. You come over to hang out with someone for more than twenty minutes, 17. Especially if you really like that person."  
  
"Shut up," he spat, reaching for the car door.  
  
"Don't you dare. I want to say something before you go."  
  
"What?" He rolled his eyes. He had a pretty good idea at what could come next.  
  
"Ask her."  
  
"Excuse me?"  
  
"Ask Maris out. What harm could it do?"  
  
"She could say no, for one."  
  
"But she likes you too!"  
  
"I'm sure."  
  
"Really! She told me! And she told you too."  
  
"18, look. I'm in no mood for heartbreak. I spent most of my adolescence falling in love and getting crushed by gold diggers and band groupies. Not once did I meet a girl who actually wanted to be with me for me, and now, with Maris, I think I've finally found a girl who can accept me for more than a rock star. She—" He pointed rigidly towards the house. 18 flinched noticeably. "—is THE most amazing girl I've ever met. I know she said she liked me before, but I need more than that. I'm not going to throw myself at ANOTHER girl again. Not anymore. I'm done with that. I've hurt myself too many times."  
  
"But—"  
  
"I'll know when and if she's the one, but until then, YOU butt out!"  
  
"I love ya bro," she sighed, defeated, and glanced at the house. "I'm probably staying here tonight with her and cue ball. I'll call you in the morning to check in, alright?"  
  
"Yes mom."  
  
"Shut up and give me a hug."  
  
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
"Oh my Kami!" Mrs. Briefs squealed as she read the morning paper, nearly spilling her milk in the process. "Bulma! Honey! You're in the paper!"  
  
"What the hell!?" Bulma swore, snatching the paper from her mother's hands. She skimmed the front page and her eyes nearly bulged from their sockets. On the front page, their was a clear image of her and Vegeta walking in downtown Satan City, just a block from the pizza place they'd eaten at last night. "Kuso," she muttered, throwing the paper down, not at all hungry anymore.  
  
And they'd taken the perfect shot too; his arm happened to be around her shoulder, a giant grin on his face, and a small smile on hers. What the picture didn't reveal, however, was that directly following that moment he was holding his gut, after she elbowed him for hitting on her yet again. He'd been smiling because he was about to make his move, and her nervous smile—appearing to be a genuine smile from a distance—was for his arm around her shoulder, which she was not comfortable with in the least.  
  
"What's wrong dear?" her mother asked, scooping up the paper. "I think it's a very flattering picture."  
  
"I hate newspapers," she snapped and stormed out of the kitchen and to her car. Hopefully Chi-Chi, Krillin, and Maris would agree with her.  
  
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
"I don't see why you're so upset," Chi-Chi said. "I mean, I saw the picture and it's not that bad. You look good."  
  
"That's not the point, Chi. I don't want ANYONE thinking me and him are a couple. I have enough to deal with as it is. I do NOT need some stupid paper printing lies about me and Vegeta!"  
  
"So what if people think it's true. The majority knows most celebrity stories are bullshit. And besides, who wouldn't want to been thought of as dating a rock star?"  
  
"Me!" Bulma all but yelled. "You don't get it. I don't have him. I don't want to have him. I don't want others to think I have him. He's not a good person, and everyone's name that's associated with him gets dragged through the mud. I do NOT need that for my career."  
  
"Ok, ok!" she said, holding up her hands defensively. "Sorry. I'll stop. But you know once we walk in that building, everyone's going to be all over you."  
  
"I know," she sighed. "But I can ignore the stupid girls."  
  
Several moments later they entered their school, just as the bell rang, and walked idly to their lockers. They parted in the main hall, Bulma and Maris going one way, and Chi-Chi and Krillin going the other. Lockers were alphabetical, and so they were inevitably separated.  
  
Bulma was just about to close her locker and catch up with Maris on the other side of the hall, when a girl with a beached blonde ponytail stalked over and slammed her locker shut, nearly catching Bulma's nose in the process.  
  
"What the hell?"  
  
"Why would Vegeta Ouji want some drab geek like you?" the girl sneered. Bulma narrowed her eyes and took a step back, so not to be nose to nose with the girl. It was Aki Okita, the only person in the school Bulma could truly call her enemy. They'd been at odds since Middle School when she and Yamcha first began to date. And she was still as jealous as ever.  
  
"What's wrong, Aki? Can't stand being jealous of me?"  
  
"Jealous of what?" she laughed. "That out-dated sweater? Or that hack job of a haircut?"  
  
"You still can't get over Yamcha, can you? All this time, and you're still just as jealous as you were before."  
  
"And you're still as ugly as you were before. Nothing changes, Briefs."  
  
"Go back to your biker gang and leave me the hell alone, Aki. I don't have time to deal with your shit. Unlike you, I go to my classes and I'm going to make something of my life."  
  
"I would too if I knew I was set for life with my daddy's job."  
  
"I worked hard for where I am!" Bulma railed, clenching her fists, more angry that she let Aki get to her. "I do a hell of a lot more than lying on my back for people to respect me!"  
  
"You've had everything handed to you on a silver fucking platter since you were shitting your diapers, you little priss! And now you're parading Vegeta Ouji around Satan City like some kind of trophy! How much money did your daddy pay for him to do that?"  
  
Aki was on the ground and holding her nose before anyone, including Bulma, knew what happened. She was still for a good ten seconds, staring at her balled fist. It was the first time a confrontation with Aki had come to this, and it felt good.  
  
"You bitch!" Aki cried from the floor, blood seeping from her nose, onto her white shirt. She was crying and didn't look like she was getting up any time soon.  
  
"Next time you insult me or my father, I won't stop with a little punch in the face. I'll be dragging your broken body to the Emergency Room."  
  
"You wouldn't dare."  
  
"Try me, bitch. See what happens. See how far you can push me."  
  
But the fight was not to continue today, and Aki Okita simply sat on the floor, her face and shirt cover in smeared blood and tears.  
  
Bulma walked away, chuckling softly to herself.  
  
Maris looked on in awe.  
  
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
---Chapter 19!!! Well, well, well. Someone's been busy writing her story :D Yay! That's me! Hope everyone liked this! A lot more happened this time :D  
  
REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (Reviews=More Chapters) …A little birdy told me he'd kill anyone who didn't review…  
  
Next time: Bulma and Mrs. Ouji do some bonding! :D…What will Vegeta think!? :o 


	20. The Perfectly Corrupted Vegeta Ouji

Last time:  
  
Bulma walked away, chuckling softly to herself.  
  
Maris looked on in awe.  
  
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
Note: This chapter is going to span over a month or so, so don't panic! :P And, there is some slight lemon-ness, so if you can't handle it, don't read it!  
  
"So," Vegeta said, as he picked through the macaroni and cheese 18 had made for him. "Am I better?"  
  
"What are you talking about?" 18 asked. She took a seat across from him at the table.  
  
"I don't know," he sighed sarcastically. "Maybe how you bitched at me a few months ago about shaping up or you'd leave the band. I think that might be it."  
  
"Oh," she laughed, and took a bite of macaroni and cheese, thinking absently that it was a little dry. "Yes, I think you've managed to turn yourself around."  
  
He only nodded and continued eating his food.  
  
"I think Bulma had a lot to do with it."  
  
"Shut up."  
  
"No, I mean it. Ever since you met her you've been so focused on her you haven't had time to screw things up. No dates, no problems."  
  
"She has nothing to do with it."  
  
"So you're magically humbled?"  
  
He nodded, his eyes narrowed. Bulma seemed to be a sore subject for him lately, 18 thought. Probably due to the fact that she wasn't falling for the same bait as all the other girls.  
  
"All I'm saying is that I think that's the reason. There may be some other out of this world reason for it other than that, but since I don't know, that's what I'm assuming. I mean, you've even been nicer to people lately. Goku told me you were bringing him food the other day."  
  
"He's a damn cripple, what do you expect? I'm not that cold."  
  
18 only laughed.  
  
"By the way, nice hickey you gave Bulma. I saw her trying to cover it up today (Monday)."  
  
"What the hell are you babbling on about now?" Vegeta grunted. "She specifically told me no hickies, and she got exactly that; no hickies."  
  
"No, I saw it. She was wearing a turtleneck, and it slipped down, and before she could pull it up, I distinctly saw a big red mark on her neck. I think I know what a hickey looks like Vegeta."  
  
"And I think I know that I didn't even go near her neck. Maybe kissed it once or twice, but nothing that could leave a mark. I was damn careful!"  
  
There was a long pause, and then Vegeta grabbed his bowl of macaroni and cheese and threw it across the room. The dishwasher-safe glass shattered on the wall, and shards and macaroni went everywhere.  
  
"What the fuck, Vegeta!" 18 yelled, now ten feet from the table. "That was uncalled for!"  
  
"She's messing around with another guy!" he countered, throwing his fork to the floor as well. When he went to grab his glass, however, 18 stopped him and demanded to know what he was talking about. "Bulma, you moron! She's screwing some other guy! You think I don't know when someone is with more than one person? I do it all the time; I know the signs! And this one is damn obvious!"  
  
"But the only guys she hangs out with are you, Krillin, 17, and maybe Yamcha. And all of them are taken."  
  
"No," he hissed, clenching his teeth and fists. "17 is conveniently single."  
  
"He's all over Maris, what would he be doing with Bulma?"  
  
"Stop defending your useless brother and open your eyes!"  
  
"Fuck you, Vegeta! You don't know what you're talking about! If you stopped being jealous for one second, you'd realize that the reason Bulma is with another guy is because YOU are not giving her what she needs."  
  
"I give her plenty."  
  
"You give her lines and false hopes! Try growing up, then maybe you'd see how much she likes you and how close you are to having her if you'd just stop being the way you always are with girls!"  
  
"If she really wanted me she'd want me as I am!"  
  
"What girl in their right mind would want a relationship with someone whose constantly putting them down? You think girls want to be hit on every five minutes? You think they like arguing about the littlest, stupidest things for your sake? You think they like having to explain to their friends and family why you are they way you are? No, you moron! Open your damn eyes! Bulma is the only girl who could have put up with you for this long and you can't even begin to see what a miracle that is. She could actually love you, and all you're going to do is break her heart."  
  
"Do you really think I'm that cruel?" he snapped.  
  
"Yes," she said coldly, then turned and walked out of the house, leaving Vegeta angry and standing in broken glass and cheesy macaroni.  
  
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
(Saturday)  
  
Bulma let out a howling laugh and slapped her knee, fighting to keep her tears back. For the past hour or so, she'd been sitting on Vegeta's living room floor, surrounded by boxes, and laughing wildly. Vegeta, however, was missing from the mix, replaced by the one person he would hate to know she was spending time with: his mother. And not only that, but they'd been searching through all the old Ouji photo albums, and cracking jokes about the absent rock star.  
  
"Oh, that was great," Bulma managed between giggles. "I had no idea what a happy little kid Vegeta was. So much different from the grumpy guy he is now."  
  
"Well," Mrs. Ouji sighed, her laughter subsiding, "you're too young to remember how he was before his father died. Here."  
  
She handed Bulma a small, slightly tattered, photo.  
  
"My Kami," she gasped, staring at the image. It was an old class picture of Vegeta, 17, 18, Goku, and her, Krillin and Chi-Chi. She almost couldn't believe her eyes. Shouldn't she have the same picture, hidden somewhere in an old album? "Look how chubby his face was!" she finally laughed, handing the picture back to Mrs. Ouji. "He's certainly bulked up since then. Not an ounce of fat on that guy."  
  
"Yes, well, with how much time he spends at the gym, I'm surprised he doesn't take up permanent residence there."  
  
"He needs to please his fans, you know."  
  
"Bulma." Mrs. Ouji's voice suddenly dropped and was filled with unmasked concern. "What do you want with my son?"  
  
"Excuse me?" Not only had she thought she heard wrong, but what she thought she heard, suddenly made her very angry. What does she mean, she thought, what do I want with her son?  
  
"I mean, dear, that I don't understand why you'd want to spend time with Vegeta if he's…well…the way he is. He's driven so many beautiful young girls insane with his behavior, and I…I just don't want the same happening to you. You're so strong to keep a romantic distance from my son, but I fear that won't last much longer. I really like you Bulma, and wish you the best, but…just not with Vegeta."  
  
"Is that why you called me?" Bulma asked, stunned at her words. What kind of mother talked about her son that way?  
  
"Yes and no. Yes, I did want to warn you in a way. I know you're smart enough to tell the difference between games and sincerity, but I also know that the heart can sometimes overpower the mind…But I also wanted to get to know you. So many of the girls Vegeta brings home never stop long enough to look at me, let alone say hello. From the moment he brought you here, I knew there was something different about you. You're not letting Vegeta win at his games. You're staying strong…And you're not letting your heart put you in danger."  
  
"What do you mean, not letting?"  
  
"Bulma, sweety," she sighed. "I'm sorry, but it's painfully obvious that you have some feelings for my son. That's another reason I wanted to warn you. I can see your affection for him growing, and I needed to tell you exactly where those feelings might lead you."  
  
"You're supposed to be his mother," Bulma snapped in his defense. Immediately, however, she regretted her words and tried to apologize.  
  
"It's alright. I understand how my behavior might seem, but I can't ignore my son's foolishness any longer. Too many innocent girls have been hurt because of him, and I can't sit by and let yet another fall through the cracks…I know a mother is supposed to help and support her own child, but I don't think Vegeta can be helped. But you, Bulma, you can prevent yourself from even being close to being hurt. You can stop the games he's playing. You can stay strong because you know what he'll do."  
  
"And what makes you think he'll do the same as he did with all the rest?"  
  
"Because, dear, it's exactly like you said…the same as all the rest…All the rest! Don't you see? He's hurt so many that one more person, no matter how great, is nothing to him."  
  
"So first I'm a toy, and now I'm nothing?" Bulma hissed, jumping to her feet. "Forgive me, Mrs. Ouji, but I think you need to have some faith in your own flesh and blood. Can't you see that he's hurting over the loss of his father? People do strange and stupid things in their grief, and I don't think this case is any different. He hasn't found any closure with his father's death, and until he does, he's going to continue acting the way he does. Maybe, instead of warning me and other girls about your son, you should try to help him get over his demons. Until he does, he's going to be the same, and he's going to continue to resent you."  
  
"Don't you think I've tried that!?" Mrs. Ouji cried, now standing and clinging to Bulma's arm. "I've tried everything to help my son, and I can't! That, and only that, is the reason I can say he's hopeless and focus on helping the people he hurts. What kind of a mother would I be if I abandoned him like that?"  
  
"I'm sorry, Mrs. Ouji," Bulma sighed, pulling her into a compassionate hug. "I…I guess I like Vegeta more than I thought…"  
  
"I know dear…And that's why I'm trying to help you."  
  
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
"Hey Vegeta," Bulma said as she entered his room. Only moments before, he'd come home, saw her and his mother in the living room, and stormed up to his room, shooting off various nasty curses. "What's up? Have a bad day or something?"  
  
He didn't even look at her, just continued to read the Anzai book in his lap.  
  
"Come on. I'm sorry we haven't hung out all week, but I'm busy with school," she said, taking a seat on the bed beside him. "Besides, you haven't called me either. You have no reason to be angry."  
  
"Did it ever occur to you, woman, that I'm not so childish as to be mad over something so trivial?"  
  
"Then what's bothering you?"  
  
"You," he snapped. He climbed off the bed and threw down his book, nearly hitting Bulma with it in the process. "Get the hell out of my room, and do NOT call me!"  
  
"Excuse me? What the hell did I do to you?"  
  
"Nothing you did," he laughed. "No. You, Princess of Capsule Corp., are always innocent, right? Just like Anzai's damn princesses! They're always innocent! They never hurt a soul! They're pure and good and fucking holy! Just like you!"  
  
"Vegeta!" Bulma yelled, now standing as close to him as she thought wise. "I don't know what's got you so angry, but I think I have a right to know before I get railed like this. What did I do?"  
  
"What?" he asked maliciously. "Or who? Yes, that might work as well. And, as far as my mother is concerned, she's just as horrid as ever, and a perfect friend for you!"  
  
"You're mad because I'm spending time with your mother!?" She'd completely forgotten the first part of his accusations. "Oh, now that's rich. So what, I'm not allowed to talk to the people you don't like? She's your mother for Kami's sake, Vegeta! You have no reason to hate her the way you do!"  
  
"No reason!?" he boomed, taking a step forward. Bulma would have flinched, if she hadn't been so angry. "No reason!? I have plenty of reasons to loathe her! And talking to you only adds to the list."  
  
"She's not the reason your father is dead, Vegeta." Big mistake. "You need to stop blaming her for that."  
  
Without thinking, Vegeta tackled Bulma to the bed and held her wrists in his vice grip of a grasp. His weight was pressed entirely on top of her stomach and she could barely breathe, let alone yell for him to stop. But, as she looked up into his fiery eyes, she suddenly stopped struggling and shrunk back. Never in her life, had she ever been afraid of men the way a woman is always thought she should. But now, as his cold stare seemed to penetrate her soul, an uncontrollable shudder ran through her and for the first time in her life, she was truly afraid of a man's strength.  
  
"If you EVER mention my father again, I will not hesitate to show you exactly how I feel about you, you worthless bitch!" He tightened his grip on her wrists and his knees seemed to bore into her sides like knives. "You didn't know him and you have no right even thinking about him! He was the only person I ever trusted and your degrading words are not what he deserves!"  
  
She went to speak, possibly defend herself, but the words stopped just short of her lips. A small gasp is all that escaped.  
  
"What?" he demanded, lifting himself slightly. He was positively shaking with rage.  
  
"And why do I deserve this?" she whispered, straining her neck.  
  
"Because—" But he stopped short, as the realization of his actions finally sunk in. Slowly, he eased himself off of Bulma and off the bed, only to collapse on the floor. With no thoughts for herself, Bulma ran to his side and pulled him against her.  
  
"I know it hurts to lose someone," she whispered. She kissed his forehead lovingly. "But you need to find another way to let your anger out. Hurting everyone around isn't going to stop you from hurting."  
  
"What do you know?" he snapped, turning his head away. But Bulma had seen the tears straining to break free, and opted not to tell him she did.  
  
"I've been doing the same thing," she sighed. "Ever since Yamcha's parents died, I've been trying to find a way to stop hurting. I think fighting with you, and some of the fights I got into at school this year, were ways of trying to replace that hurt with something else. I know now that I was just being stupid. The only thing that can help me is time…and it's the only thing that can help you too. That and forgiving your mother."  
  
"She doesn't deserve—"  
  
"She deserves it the most," Bulma insisted, then gave way to kissing his forehead, and cheeks, and eyes, until finally he grabbed her arms and gently eased her on her back, his mouth covering hers. Slowly, cautiously, he inched his hand under her shirt and gently grasped then massaged one of her breasts. And, before either of them knew it, Bulma's shirt lay crumpled on the floor beside them, soon to be joined by her lacey purple bra. From her neck, Vegeta continued down Bulma's chest until he reached her left breast and his mouth found her hard round nipple. His other hand found her right one, his fingers teasing the small fleshy pebble expertly.  
  
Bulma let out a satisfied moan, her hands digging into his wild hair. But, as soon as his hand began to wander closer towards Bulma's midsection, she jumped back and covered her naked chest with her arms.  
  
"I'm sorry," she said, pulling on her shirt. Her bra was forgotten in her haste. "I…I can't do this…Not with you Vegeta…I'm sorry."  
  
"Whatever," he grumbled, then stood, grabbed his fallen Anzai book off the floor, and settled back on his bed to continue reading like nothing happened. Outraged, and completely embarrassed, Bulma hissed a few choice curses, then stomped out of his room, leaving her bra on the floor as an accidental souvenir.  
  
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
Bulma, Chi-Chi, Krillin, Maris, 17, 18, and Goku all sat in Bulma's living room, watching old cartoons, that were beginning to cycle out of the Thanksgiving theme, and move more towards Christmas. The Thanksgiving Holdiday hadn't been at all what Bulma was expecting, what with her mother inviting all of her friends, old and new, to come have dinner at Capsule Corp. All but Vegeta accepted the invitation.  
  
Now, on this drowsy day in mid-December, Bulma felt almost alone in a room full of people. Since her last encounter with Vegeta, she'd only seen him a few times, but always in the company of his band mates, and never did he even try to talk to her. Eventually, Bulma broke down and told the others what happened and they assured her that Vegeta's distance was due to his embarrassment of the situation. It was hard for him to accept the fact that she wasn't like the other girls and didn't just want him in bed. When she refused him, it took a hard hit on his ego, something he considered sacred.  
  
"What now?" Krillin groaned, his arm loosely draped over 18 and Bulma's shoulders. "We've been on Christmas vacation for a week now, and we're already bored."  
  
"What do you want to do, Krill?" Bulma snapped playfully, pushing all thoughts of Vegeta from her mind. "You want to go Christmas shopping? Get hounded by all the crazy shoppers?"  
  
"No," he sighed. The group had decided, that with the mobs of Christmas shoppers, that they'd wait and exchange Secret Santa presents on New Year's Eve. The only shopping any of them did was for family members, but it seemed they were all finished. Vegeta, unwillingly, was thrown into the Secret Santa hat, and ended up pulling out Bulma's name. She, however, pulled 17's name. The ballots were secret, though everyone could tell who Vegeta ended up with. That was the last time Bulma had seen him.  
  
"Well—" But, just as Bulma began speaking, the telephone rang on the side table next to her. She gave a weak laugh, then answered it with, "Merry Christmas Capsule Corp. Customer. How may I help you?" This was of course a joke, for all the phones in the housing area were separate from those of the company.  
  
"Pack your bags," came Vegeta's unmistakenable voice.  
  
"Come again?" Surely she'd heard wrong.  
  
"I said, pack your bags, woman."  
  
"Where the hell do you think I'm going?"  
  
"Europe."  
  
And before she could answer, he'd already hung up the phone.  
  
"What was that all about?" 18 asked, eyeing the phone almost suspiciously.  
  
"I…I honestly don't know…"  
  
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
---Chapter 20! What? Europe? What the hell is he thinking? I can't even begin to wonder what he's doing!—Oh wait! Yes I can :P But I'm not telling!!!  
  
REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (Reviews=More Chapters) More Chapters=Extremely happy Marci :D  
  
Next time: Find out what Vegeta hit his head on to think Buma will go with him to Europe…LOL! :P  
  
P.S. I really, really, really, really, really, really hope everyone is enjoying this fic. I've out a lot into it and I think it's going alright. But it's what my readers think that matters, so I hope everyone likes it as much as I do. Questions and comments are always welcome :) 


	21. Merde!

Last time:  
  
"What was that all about?" 18 asked, eyeing the phone almost suspiciously.  
  
"I…I honestly don't know…"  
  
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
Jun Tsuruga, otherwise known as "The Boss" by her employees, sat quietly in her office, the only sound coming from a small radio in the corner, tuned down to nearly zero volume. A pencil, flipped to look like rubber, was her only source of entertainment at the moment. Ever since Goku's car accident, her workload had been cut in half, and with all of today's work done, she had been struggling to entertain herself for the past two hours, and still had two to go of office time.  
  
The phones seemed to have died. Jun couldn't remember the last time she heard it ring.  
  
"Oh well," she sighed, flinging the pencil into a trash bin across the room. "Score."  
  
She was about to get up and grab a coffee to keep herself from falling asleep, when the phone rang for the first time in hours. Hastily she straightened out her blouse, a nervous habit, and picked up the receiver. She was completely unprepared for the anxious voice at the other end.  
  
"Jun!" Goku cried, grabbing her attention immediately. He didn't even wait for her to identify herself. "He's really gone mad this time! You have to stop him! He took off to the airport with her! And he won't tell us a thing!"  
  
"Whoa, whoa," Jun said softly. "Calm down Goku. Now what's going on? Who are you talking about?" Though she had a pretty good guess.  
  
"Ok," he sighed, taking a deep breath. Jun could hear 17 and 18 in the background, along with two or three other unidentifiable voices. "Vegeta called Bulma's house a few hours ago," he began.  
  
"Yes, Bulma Briefs."  
  
"Yeah, and he told her to pack her bags and that she was going to Europe. Then an hour later Vegeta showed up with plane tickets, ran Bulma up to her room, and came back down not even ten minutes later with two suitcases and some other bags. She didn't even have time to say anything to her parents, he just dragged her out of the house and put her in the car." He took another deep, calculated breath. Jun was stunned silent. "So, we called Mrs. Ouji and she said he was raving for two weeks about taking Bulma to Europe and she thought he was just talking bullshit—Excuse my language—but then he packed his bags and ran out of the house. I guess he called Mrs. Briefs in advance, because when Chi-Chi told her she just smiled and walked away…We tried to catch their plane before it took off, but we were too late. And we can't contact them 'til they land 'cause cellphones have to be turned off on planes. Jun! What the hell has gotten into him!? I really think he's insane this time!"  
  
"Just calm down, Kami!" Jun snapped. "There has to be a logical explanation behind this. As soon as their flight gets in and Bulma calls you, which I'm sure she will, you call me. I'll find a way to get a hold of Vegeta, but until then I'm going to call his mother. And you try to get some information out of her mother. I'll call you back in an hour, ok? Now stay calm and don't do anything stupid."  
  
"Like what!? Follow them!?"  
  
"Exactly!"  
  
A loud knock at the door caught Jun's attention.  
  
"Just a minute!" she called. "Look Goku, I have to go, someone's here. Just remember what I said. I'll handle this. That's my job."  
  
"Alright Boss," he sighed. "Bye."  
  
"Bye Goku."  
  
She looked around for a moment, then sat back in her desk chair, not remembering when she stood up. Slowly, she cupped her hands behind her head and leaned back, breathing quietly and trying her hardest not to scream in utter rage. The nerve of that guy, stealing one of the richest corporate icons in the world and flying off to Europe! What the hell was on his mind?  
  
"Hello?" came a voice from behind the door.  
  
"Kuso," Jun swore, straightening her blouse again. She'd forgotten about her visitor. "Yes, come in. Sorry about the wait, I was on an urgent call. I—Sen!? What the hell are you doing here!?"  
  
"Well it's nice to see you too, Big Boss," Sen laughed, her tiny daughter Ryoko bouncing at her waist, lollipop dangling from her sticky fingers. Jun grimaced.  
  
"What do you want? I already told you over the phone that you have no legal standing against my clients anymore. Ryoko is not Vegeta's daughter, and therefore you are in no position to demand anything from us."  
  
"Who said anything about that?" she asked innocently.  
  
"With you," Jun sneered, "it's always about that. Now tell me what you want or I'll have you thrown out."  
  
"Fine," Sen sighed, reaching into her purse to pull out a rather thick stack of papers. "You take all the fun out of it. Here." She set the papers in front of Jun on her desk, then took a few steps back.  
  
"What the hell is this? Order of Attorney? Are you suing Green Dragon!?"  
  
"You're a bright one," Sen laughed. "That's exactly what I'm doing. Feel free to read through it, but I can give you a rough outline."  
  
"Please do," Jun hissed through her teeth.  
  
"Well, basically it states that Vegeta Ouji, of Green Dragon, seduced me while I was drunk, abandoned a child he didn't know was his or not until recently, went behind my back and took my daughter's BLOOD without my permission to do a paternity test, and made me suffer emotional hardships, etc…etc…"  
  
"This'll never hold up!"  
  
"You're so sure? Look, Jun, I don't want to do this anymore than you want it done, but I've made up my mind. I would have had my attorney deliver the papers, but I needed to tell you in person. I'll keep in touch."  
  
Without another word, Sen sauntered out of Jun's office, laughing wildly when she closed the door.  
  
"Could things get any worse?" Jun groaned, putting her head in her hands. And unfortunately, they would. For, at that very moment, Bulma and Vegeta were planting the seeds for the ultimate corruption of Green Dragon.  
  
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
"Mrs. Briefs!" Chi-Chi pleaded, her hands actually clasped out in front of her. "You have to tell us what you know! We know Bulma's not in any sort of physical danger, but Vegeta's not exactly the nicest guy in the world. She's being set up for heartbreak!"  
  
"He's a lovely boy," was all Mrs. Briefs said, flipping the pancakes in her skillet. "I'll have these ready in a few minutes. Now everyone take a seat in the dining room."  
  
"No," Krillin said firmly, catching everyone's attention. "Not until you tell us what's going on. We have every right to know what you know."  
  
"Fine," she finally sighed. Even she knew when to stop playing games. "As soon as these are done and you kids are seated, I'll tell you all I know. But, I'm warning you, it isn't much."  
  
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
Bulma sighed deeply and stretched her limbs, careful not to hit Vegeta on her right, or an older gentleman on her left. They were on an ordinary commercial plane, in coach, which Vegeta continually complained about. He would have gotten first class tickets on a private jet if he'd had more time. To this Bulma asked, "What? Don't have your own jet?"  
  
"I'm too busy to get a pilot's license," came his snappy reply. "There's no way I'm owning a plane if I can't fly it."  
  
Now, crammed in such close quarters, Bulma finally felt relaxed. It'd been well over an hour since they'd rushed from her house, leaving their friends in a fury of confusion. She told Vegeta that the second that got off the plane she was calling home. He hadn't responded.  
  
"If you asked me in advance I would have said yes," Bulma said, just after the stewardess brought their sodas and peanuts. "Believe it or not, I like spending time with you. I just feel really bad about leaving everyone like that. They must be going crazy. And if I know my mother, she won't tell them a thing. She likes to keep secrets until people literally blow up at her for not telling them…I am surprised, though, that she didn't leak the information to me. I'd think she'd be too excited to keep it in."  
  
"She only knew for a day," Vegeta finally answered, ignoring his complimentary refreshments. "I didn't want to give you any reason to say no."  
  
"Asking me on such short notice is the worst way to insure that, you know?"  
  
"You're here, aren't you?"  
  
"Why did you want me to come, anyway? And what about the others? Why leave them behind?"  
  
"How can I seduce you with everyone around?" he said, receiving a playful punch in the arm. "Look." He leaned in, face inches from Bulma's, and brushed a loose strand of hair from her forehead. "I was more than my usual asshole self that day." Bulma didn't need to be told which day he was referring to. "I don't usually attack people like that…Not physically anyway…I'm not a frickin' barbarian."  
  
"Could have fooled me," Bulma laughed. "I accept your apology."  
  
"I didn't—"  
  
"I said," she insisted, giving him a quick kiss on the nose, "I accept your apology. Just leave it be."  
  
She settled back into her seat and closed her eyes, a small smile gracing her lips as Vegeta's hand found hers.  
  
"Are we dating now?" he asked, the monotonousness of his voice masking all emotional ties to the question.  
  
"No Vegeta," she sighed, not bothering to open her eyes. She knew he was staring at her. "Not yet."  
  
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
"Alright," Mrs. Briefs sighed, glancing over at Mrs. Ouji who had just arrived a few moments before, twisting and untwisting a towel in her hands; Chi-Chi had given it to her to relieve stress. There was no time to get acquainted, which actually made Mrs. Briefs slightly angry, but she could hold off for a little while. They were desperate for information. "Vegeta called me last night, very late I might add. I was about to go upstairs and give the phone to Bulma, but he said he wanted to talk to me. I promised him I wouldn't say a word to anyone until they were already gone, and that's exactly what I'm doing. I'm not about to let my daughter's possible future husband slip away because I can't keep a secret."  
  
"Future husband!?" 17 and 18 boomed in unison.  
  
"Mrs. Briefs," Chi-Chi interjected. "I don't think they've known each other quite that long. They're not even dating yet."  
  
"Give them time," her mother sighed. "But, anyway, as I was saying." Everyone seemed to straighten up at her words. "He called and told me that he was planning to take Bulma to Europe for about a week. I was shocked, of course, because I've never heard of such a thing. Maybe because my family didn't really have money and boys just didn't call girls and take them on exotic vacations on the spur of the moment…Anyway…He said he…well…in my words he said he wanted to win her over. He was sort of babbling and that's what I picked up from what he said. He's a lovely boy."  
  
"So, wait," Maris said. "You let him take Bulma without telling us?"  
  
"Well yes. Isn't that what just happened?" Mrs. Briefs laughed. "Now, eat up. I don't want your food getting cold on account of my babbling. Mrs. Ouji, would you like some?"  
  
"No thank you," she sighed. "18 dear."  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Could you give me a call the second you find out something? If I know my son, the next time I hear from him will be the next time I see him."  
  
"Of course. I'll walk you out."  
  
The rest of the group was left in the dining room, picking at their pancakes, but not at all hungry. They just couldn't figure it. Why would Bulma leave with him and not demand to be able to tell them what's going on? Or at least say good-bye? Did she really like him as much as everyone had feared? Was her heart now in more danger?  
  
Everyone seemed to sigh at the same time.  
  
"Well, he's really done it this time," 18 sighed, upon returning to the room. She completely ignored her pancakes. Mrs. Briefs wasn't in the room to hound her, so she had no need for them. "I had to calm his mother down before I let her drive home. He doesn't know how much he effects her."  
  
"No," Goku snapped. "He knows exactly what he does. That's why he does it."  
  
"He's not all that bad."  
  
"I'm beginning to think otherwise."  
  
"Yeah, well—" The ringing her Goku's cellphone cut her off, and she waved her hand for him to answer it.  
  
"Hello?…What!?…Where does she get off—…You can't be serious!?…This is unbelievable!…Alright…Yeah…Ok…Yes…Yes!…Bye."  
  
"What the hell was that!?" 17 demanded, having clearly heard Jun's voice over the phone, though he couldn't exactly decipher what she'd said.  
  
"Sen is suing us."  
  
"WHAT!?" everyone yelled in unison.  
  
"You're not serious," 18 informed him.  
  
"This is impossible," 17 said.  
  
"How can she do that?" came Chi-Chi small voice.  
  
"I don't know," Goku sighed. "But she can and she is. As soon as Vegeta gets back from Europe we're meeting with our lawyers, and hers. She says if we just stick to the truth we can't lose, but…"  
  
"But what?"  
  
"But 18's in a lot of trouble."  
  
"Excuse me?" 18 snapped. "I'm in a lot of trouble? The last I heard—"  
  
"You stole her daughter's blood, 18!"  
  
"Oh…"  
  
"We need to stay calm."  
  
"Right!"  
  
"You try!"  
  
"What the hell!"  
  
"This is ridiculous!"  
  
"I can't believe it!"  
  
"What's going on out here?" Mrs. Briefs normally quiet and soothing voice boomed over all others, still managing to retain its sweetness. "Are we out of syrup?"  
  
They only shook their heads and continued eating. There was nothing they could do right now.  
  
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
"Can you believe I've never been to Paris?" Bulma beamed, pulling her luggage off the carousel and following Vegeta to their awaiting cab. She absently wondered when he had the time to call for one. "With all my family's money, we've never even been to France! England and Ireland and Itlay, for a little bit. But we're always so busy. Wow! Paris! This is beautiful!"  
  
"It's an airport," Vegeta sighed, taking one of Bulma's suitcases.  
  
"I know, but just knowing I'm in Paris. Oo! It gives me the shivers. You're the greatest, you know that? I could love you for this," she laughed.  
  
Vegeta stiffened, but continued walking. The "L" word was his greatest fear, and hearing it from her mouth was enough to want to hop back on the plane and go home.  
  
"So, where are we going first? It's only…Kami, I have no idea what time it is. But it doesn't look that late. We went back in time, right? Yeah, we definitely did. I want some dinner. Peanuts don't fill me up. Can we go to the Eiffel Tower tomorrow!? Oo! We should—"  
  
"I swear," Vegeta said, catching her attention, "if you're going to talk like this the entire time, I'm getting back on that plane right now. Screw Europe. This is unbearable."  
  
"Oh stop," she laughed. "You spoil everything. I'm just excited. Kami."  
  
"We're going to the hotel, then to dinner. Ok?"  
  
"I take it I'm going to have to dress nice?"  
  
"We'll stop and get you a dress on the way."  
  
"Kami! I'm not one for shopping, but Paris shopping? I think I might actually be excited."  
  
"I'm giddy all over," he grumbled, then hoisted their luggage into the trunk of the cab. When she didn't join him in the back, he got out, grabbed her arm, and yanked her in. She'd been watching everyone walk by, still amazed that she was in Paris. "Monsieur." His accent was perfect. "Take us to this address," he said in flawless French, handing the driver a slip of paper and some cash.  
  
"You never told me you knew French," Bulma said, a wide smile on her lips.  
  
"I haven't told you a lot of things."  
  
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
---Chapter 21! Wow! I'm popping these babies out like rabbits have babies! LOL! :P Ok, that was a bit graphic :P Heehee. Anyways, tell me what you think! Please! I'm begging you!  
  
REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (Reviews=More Chapters)…and don't just write the same thing every time. Come on people! :P  
  
Next time: More Europe and more Sen! Eeep!  
  
Note: Corrections to be made later… 


	22. I Think I’m Falling In Love With You

Last time:  
  
"You never told me you knew French," Bulma said, a wide smile on her lips.  
  
"I haven't told you a lot of things."  
  
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
"Yes, yes," Bulma laughed as she stood in front of a set of full-length mirrors, her body adorned with a slinky red dress that allowed her to just barely breath. Vegeta, who sat across from her, facing the mirrors, leaned forward and wrinkled his nose. He didn't like the dress. Bulma only nodded in agreement then went back into the dressing room to try on something else he had picked out. "I'm sure I'm fine," she sighed, the dress slipping easily off her sleek, athletic form, though she rarely worked out on purpose. "Chi-Chi! He did not kidnap me!"  
  
"She hates me!" Vegeta called from his place in the changing area, just as several workers of the dress shop came bustling in, their arms overflowing with various colors and styles. "Put them on that rack," he ordered. "I'll give them to her."  
  
"What do you mean I'm being irresponsible?" Bulma hissed into the cellular phone, compliments of Vegeta. She tugged at the zipper of her dress, cursed under her breath, then gave up. "I can do whatever I damn well please. Just because I don't tell you every little thing…Excuse me!? Take that back!" Suddenly the other end of the line went dead and Bulma threw the phone at the mirror. No damage was done, thankfully, and she emerged from the dressing room, half-dressed and fully annoyed.  
  
"What's wrong in the Devil's City?" Vegeta asked, wide smirk on his face. "You need to zip that you know. I know Paris clothes aren't exactly…normal, but you have to wear them right."  
  
"Shut up and zip me."  
  
"What'd your psycho friend say about me?" he asked as he pulled the zipper up, his hands lingering on her back a little too long.  
  
"Nothing that wasn't true," Bulma countered, then made her way over to the mirrors, smoothing down the dress in a subconscious, nervous gesture. "I sort of like this one for some reason." She turned around and around in front of the mirrors, checking the dress from all angles. "It's not what I'm used to though…For dressy occasions that is."  
  
The dress was a deep violet color, with a trim of lavender at the bottom. The hem reached all the way to the floor, and then some, tapering off behind her in a glorious pool of silky fabric. The top of the dress hung low off her shoulders, just barely showing some cleavage, which was plenty enough for Bulma. Its sleeves were long and loose, and belled out at the bottom, with a small loop of fabric at the very end for her middle fingers to hook into. The length of the bells were some six inches, and came to a point at the ends, where tiny teardrop shaped purple stones hung from invisible fasteners. The mid section of the dress—and Bulma's favorite part—was a gorgeous ivory sash, that wrapped around her waist several times, though sewn to the dress, and was only for show. She felt like a true Japanese Princess, which made her laugh, for she was trying it on in a Parisian dress shop.  
  
"I need a necklace," she informed Vegeta, who hadn't stopped staring at her since she exited the dressing room. "To match the little stones. Can we get one?"  
  
"That way," he said, tearing his eyes away, as he pointed to the left. "You'll need a long winter coat too."  
  
"Damn French," she muttered as she went back in to change. "Everything has to be just perfect. Can't just mix and match, no, I have to do it all by the book. Damn stuck up foreigners."  
  
"Hurry up. The reservations are in an hour."  
  
"Reservations!?" Bulma all but yelped as she tugged her tattered jeans on and came rushing out of the dressing room, her tennis shoes in hand. "When the hell did you have time to call the restaurant?"  
  
"I have my ways. Now come on, the store closes in ten minutes."  
  
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
Goku pulled Chi-Chi easily to him, his arm snaked around her thin waist, eyes never breaking contact with hers. Her father was out of town for the night, and so, being madly in love, and a reckless teenager, Chi-Chi invited Goku over to stay until early morning, ie: before sunrise.  
  
"You're the most amazing girl I've ever met," Goku whispered into the crook of her neck, as he breathed in the sweet smell of her perfume. Kami, how did girls make themselves so irresistible?  
  
"Stop," Chi-Chi sighed, picking up his head and giving him a quick kiss on the lips. "You have me, no more cheesy lines."  
  
"It's not cheesy," he insisted, "and it's true. Chi…I think I'm falling in love with you."  
  
"I…er—" But before Chi-Chi could muster a response, the phone beside the couch rang, and she practically jumped to answer it. "Hello?…Bulma! Kami! How are you!?"  
  
"It's Bulma?" Goku whispered, sitting back on his heals, his hair even more muzzed than usual. "Where are they?"  
  
"Where are you guys?…Paris!? Kami! I'm so jealous! I wish someone would sweep me off my feet and take me someplace like that."  
  
Goku's cheeks reddened.  
  
"Wow, this is amazing, I mean, I'm horribly pissed at you for leaving…Yeah…Just me and Goku…Stop it!" she laughed, easing herself onto the arm of the couch. "So, are you and Vegeta having a good time? Or is he driving you mad?…And you're sure this is what you want? You're sure you're ok?"  
  
"Tell her about Sen!" Goku whispered, though was batted away. He hmphed and got up for a glass of milk.  
  
"I just don't trust the guy at all. It's like he kidnapped you…Well, still, it's awfully irresponsible of you to run off like that and not really say a word. We were worried sick!…Don't yell at me just because you're too stubborn to admit you're wrong, and you're so completely in love with Vegeta that no one else matters!"  
  
"Everything ok?" Goku asked, reentering the living room.  
  
Chi-Chi collapsed on the couch and buried her face in its pillows. They wouldn't be breaking any rules tonight.  
  
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
18 walked leisurely through her and 17's modest-looking home, having just gone out with Krillin, her mind swimming with various topics. Two of which occupied her thoughts the most: Krillin, and how easily she found herself liking him more and more; and Sen. She didn't understand how her case could hold up in a court of law, but, on the other hand, she knew that by taking her daughter's blood, secretly—and sneakily—she was breaking the law. But, she figured that the most that could happen was a fine. Green Dragon's fans couldn't possibly shun them for something like this. Vegeta wasn't a deadbeat dad. He wasn't even a dad. He had a drunken night with a woman, a mistake that countless people made all the time. And the entire thing had been consensual. Though, as she approached the kitchen, where she knew 17 was hiding out, she couldn't help but feel that maybe the fans wouldn't understand, and that unknowingly they had played their last show.  
  
"What's up sis?" 17 asked as she entered the room. He stood at the stove, stirring a pot filled with water and noodles. She laughed at his challenge, for they were always debating over who was a better cook, then took a seat at the bar, facing her brother.  
  
"Just went out with Krillin."  
  
"How are things with you two?"  
  
"They're great," she sighed.  
  
"Convincing."  
  
"No, it's not that…I'm thinking about all the trouble Vegeta's gotten us into. This could really be the end, 17. The band could crumble because of that stupid Non-Japanese, Non-American bitch…Oh, I loathe her."  
  
"Which is exactly what she wants," 17 said, setting down his big wooden spoon and coming to lean on the bar across from his sister. "She wants attention, and money, obviously, and that's exactly what she's getting with her little game. She never wanted Vegeta or a father for her daughter. None of that mattered to her. She just wants luxury, and this is the easiest way for her to get it. Forget her stupid attempts at writing—which, by the way, aren't that good, hardly publish-worthy—she wants everything handed to her, without question. And that's just what we've been giving her, without question, for too long. I for one am glad you did what you did. So what if we lose the band. If our fans were really loyal and really cared about our music, then they wouldn't ditch us because of Vegeta's stupidity. And I don't think they will."  
  
"And if they do?"  
  
"Like I said, it doesn't matter. We do this for them just as much as we do it for ourselves, and if half our support is gone then it's not worth it."  
  
"I suppose you're right," she sighed. "And, well, Vegeta's always in the news surrounded by controversy."  
  
"Exactly."  
  
"Did I tell you about the fight me and him got into a while back? I don't think I did…Just thought about it for the first time actually."  
  
"I heard about it," 17 laughed uneasily. "Through the grapevine."  
  
"You mean Goku?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"What'd he tell you?"  
  
"Vegeta's side of the story, which is probably not completely true."  
  
"I'll tell you what happened," 18 sighed, then motioned to the pot on the stove. "It's going to boil over."  
  
"Kuso," he swore, running to the stove to turn down the heat. "Ok, now what happened?"  
  
"Well, not too much, actually. I was just hanging out at his house, making macaroni and cheese—" 17 grimaced playfully. "—and then I mentioned that I saw a hickey on Bulma's neck and that she was trying to hide it. Naturally I thought it was from Vegeta, because he's the only guy she's been seeing that isn't taken, and that little thing she had with Yamcha was months ago. Well, he got pissed and threw his food across the room and we got into a huge fight and he blamed you—of all people—and so I ripped him a new one then left."  
  
"Hmm," 17 pondered, turning his back. He prayed 18 didn't see him trembling. No, there was no need to say that it was him. It's over and done with and everything is back to normal. "That's exactly what I heard," he said, instead of spilling the beans, which was on the tip of his tongue.  
  
He took a deep breath, then pointed out the window at the mail truck that just drove by, and left the room.  
  
When he came back, however, he was panting and waving a newspaper around wildly. The mail, in his other hand, fell to the floor, and he thrust the paper in 18's face. Immediately, her eyes lit up in anger and she cursed under her breath. There, on the front page, was a clear picture of her and Krillin walking out of a movie theater in downtown Satan City.  
  
"Damn it," she hissed, throwing the paper back to 17. "I wasn't even thinking about the stupid press. Uh! Now we won't have any privacy! That's just what I need right now. More bullshit…Sometimes I hate how famous we are."  
  
"Tell me about it," 17 agreed. "They say I'm the only 'lonely' member of Green Dragon. Which means they know about Chi-Chi and Goku too."  
  
"You didn't see that issue?"  
  
He shook his head.  
  
"They weren't nearly as harsh. Said Chi-Chi was pretty and semi-worthy to be a Green Dragon Girl…Did you see what they said about Krillin and me?"  
  
17 skimmed the article then gasped.  
  
"Assholes," he muttered, setting down the paper. "What do they know?"  
  
"Obviously nothing. Krillin is NOT a midget! I'm just abnormally tall, and he's slightly short—Whatever! Stupid media."  
  
"Tell you what," 17 said, pulling her from her seat. "Let's finish this macaroni and cheese together, then burn the paper and watch a movie? Ok?"  
  
"Yeah," she sighed, trying to hide her smile. "But I still want to bash their heads in."  
  
"I know," he laughed. "I know…Me too."  
  
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
Bulma walked slowly through the high-ceilinged halls, gliding almost gracefully on the marble floors, her head positively swimming with the wonders she was seeing. It seemed the entire place was perfect, magnificent, cut skillfully from one piece of material and stuck in the middle of Paris for all to admire. Of course, it was just a regular building, as grand and beautiful as it was—the contents were far more mystifying.  
  
Each hall, and there was many—and some stretching on seemingly endlessly in both directions—was lined with masterpiece upon masterpiece, all expertly arranged to draw the eye and calm the mind. This was pure heaven for Bulma, a place she only ever imagined and never thought she'd have time or company to visit.  
  
"Having fun I take it," Vegeta whispered, wrapping his arms around her from behind as she stared at a painting on the wall.  
  
"It's amazing," she said, barely audible.  
  
"I thought you'd like it."  
  
"Vegeta," she scolded, turning around, their faces inches apart. "It's the Louvre! Who wouldn't love it!?"  
  
"I guess," he sighed, pulling her even closer.  
  
"You're going to kiss me, aren't you?"  
  
"Who wouldn't want to?"  
  
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
Vegeta gave a great yawn and stretched his arms, then settled back into his more-than-comfortable First Class seat. Bulma, who sat beside him, and next to the window, stared out sadly as Paris disappeared from view. The Eiffel Tower, where they'd been the morning before, was the last site she saw before turning to Vegeta, her eyes slightly misty.  
  
"I'm going to miss Paris," she sighed. "I wish we could have stayed longer."  
  
"Trust me," Vegeta said. "You're going to love the place I'm renting. I went there once by myself…Well, I found someone to room with me there…and I didn't want to go home."  
  
"Wow. That's impressive. I know I haven't known you all that long, but I had you pegged as a guy who hated anything and everything, mostly because he could."  
  
"That's pretty much it," he admitted, taking two glasses of champagne from the stewardess. "There are a few things I like…music, food, sex—" He grinned suggestively. "—beer, cigarettes, and the place we're going."  
  
"You haven't told me where we're going yet, you know. Every time there's a sign you cover my eyes. Just tell me. I'll find out as soon as we land anyway."  
  
"No," he said stubbornly. "I want to see if you can figure it out just by being there."  
  
"That's ridiculous. How am I supposed to do that?"  
  
"If I blindfolded you and dropped you in the middle of Japan, would you know where you are?"  
  
"Duh," Bulma grunted. "I live there AND everyone would be speaking Japanese."  
  
"Well you'll know, trust me."  
  
"I better like this place better than France, because you're building it up an awfully lot."  
  
"You will. Kami. Just trust me for once."  
  
"Vegeta, if I trusted you, you'd have me pinned to the nearest bed with no possible chance for escape."  
  
"True," he laughed, and took a sip of champagne.  
  
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
Bulma tackled Vegeta onto the nearest couch, and there were many, and covered his face with hundreds of kisses, each more powerful and passionate than the first. When she was finally calmed down, she sat up, ran through the rooms of the place he'd rented, then back to him, giving him another series of kisses.  
  
"I absolutely LOVE it!" she announced, jumping into his arms. He easily swept her up, arm under her knees, and carried her into the nearest bedroom, one of five.  
  
"Told you," he laughed, dropping her on the bed. But, instead of staying sit and waiting for him to make another move, she scrambled to her feet and examined the bedposts; gorgeous wood-craved spiral posts with engravings of various animals and people, who Bulma knew to be gods and goddesses, though precisely which ones she didn't know. The canopy of the bed was several layers of sheer blue and lavender fabric, tied off with silk ribbons and bows, and attached not only on the bed, but on the ceiling as well, in a lovely circular fixture. The heavy velvet blanket on the bed was a deep violet color, and the pillows—and there were many, many pillows—ranged from royal blue and deep violet to sky blue and lavender and were the softest silk Bulma had ever felt.  
  
Around the room, and in all the rooms, were statues of gods and goddesses, tapestries, elegant vases filled with fresh flowers, a fountain in the middle, and the most gorgeous of marble walls, floors, and fixtures. It was pure paradise, and, for the first time, Bulma wanted nothing more than to be in Vegeta's arms and enjoy his company without holding herself back.  
  
"I can't believe I've lived this long and have never been here. It's insane! And it cannot believe you actually rented this house, all the way up here in the mountains. It must have cost you a fortune."  
  
"Not really," he bragged, leaning on a bedpost. "I can afford it. I bought that book, didn't I?"  
  
"Why do you spoil me so much? I don't understand."  
  
"You know exactly why," he said slyly, making his way towards her. And, surprisingly, knowing what he meant, she didn't move back, and welcomed his passionate kiss. As they tumbled onto the bed, tearing at each other's clothes furiously, Bulma let out a small cry of pure laughter. "What?" Vegeta hissed, ripping at the buttons of the expensive French shirt he'd bought for her. Oh well, he'd get her another one later. Or maybe some lingerie.  
  
"I can't remember the last time I was this happy," she said in all seriousness. "And it pisses me off a little that you're the one making me so happy."  
  
"Is that really such a horrific thing?" he grunted, pulling her shirt off and tossing it across the room.  
  
"No," she laughed, helping him with her bra, which she threw. "I suppose it isn't."  
  
"And you're sure you want this? You're not going to push me away again?"  
  
"Yes," she breathed, the passion beginning to fill her completely. "I hate that I do, but I do, and I'm not going to stop myself again."  
  
"Good," he whispered with a smirk, as he yanked off her pants.  
  
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
---Chapter 22!!! Holy crap! What a jerk I am! :P Heehee. Well, at least I know everyone will want to come back for more :) My evil plan, lol. Why do you think I like cliffhangers so much? Heehee—Merde! My secret is out! Oh, by the way, to the person who asked me: Merde means shit in French.  
  
REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (Reviews=More Chapters) …and more reviews makes Marci not go crazy and chase everyone down :)  
  
Next time: What do you think!? ;)  
  
Note: You know, I realized that in all my fics I always make 17 OOC. He's supposed to be the meaner of the twins, and I always make him this mushy, lovesick guy…But, I suppose there's only room for one jackass, and since Vegeta already took the job, 17's reduced to lover boy :P Which I don't think is all bad, I just thought it was really interesting. I really don't know for sure why I did it, I guess I just liked him better that way…  
  
…What do all of you think? Do you like 17 the way I make him????  
  
P.S. Sorry about the shortness of the chapter (even though its waaaaay longer than most fics on here), but I really wanted to get it out. I promise the next on will be longer ;)  
  
ONE MORE THING! :P Can you guess where Bulma and Vegeta are this time? (Hint: I haven't mentioned it yet). 


	23. El Prado and the Pyramids

Last time:  
  
"Yes," she breathed, the passion beginning to fill her completely. "I hate that I do, but I do, and I'm not going to stop myself again."  
  
"Good," he whispered with a smirk, as he yanked off her pants.  
  
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
Bulma let out a soft moan as Vegeta's teeth grazed her neck, his arms wrapped around her, fingers raking through her untamed aquamarine locks. She was completely at ease with him, surrendering to herself, to every little thing she'd ever thought about to keep herself from being with him the way she'd wanted since day one. Of course, there had been those silly girlish dreams of dating your favorite rock star, but since meeting the band, those dreams disappeared completely, and he was only Vegeta Ouji, the enigma she both wanted and hated.  
  
But, no matter what she did—or what he did for that matter—she could never stop thinking about him, never stop wanting him as her own. Being "just another lay to him" was the strongest thing keeping her from jumping into bed with him, let alone starting a relationship. She couldn't allow herself to be put in that type of situation deliberately, not after what happened with Yamcha. True, it didn't really hurt with Yamcha, for in the back of her mind she knew it was what she wanted—but the principle of the matter was his disloyalty to her. She didn't think she'd be able to handle that again.  
  
She didn't think that, until Vegeta came into her life that is. Once he was there, she knew, no matter how much she tried to push him away or deny it. She wanted him. She was starting to love him. She couldn't keep herself away from him any longer. She was giving up on her foolish girlhood quest for the perfect man. No man could ever be perfect, and none could be as good as Vegeta, she now realized. He was the best for her, she was never going to get any better. Yamcha taught her that. And, not that it was a bad thing, because she saw herself liking him more and more each day, and, if she didn't pay attention, one day she would love him and wouldn't understand where that emotion came from all of a sudden.  
  
So, instead of being cold as ice, or stone, or anything else that her visage could be compared to, she was going to go out on a limb, take a chance, and pick herself up later if she happened to fall. It was better than nothing, better than hiding and not being able to say she took a chance with the only man she may ever possibly feel that way about.  
  
She was done. She was surrendering.  
  
"Vegeta," Bulma suddenly whispered, her mouth touching his ear. A shiver ran through him and he picked his head up and looked into her eyes. She was confused.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Nothing. It's just…well, I like foreplay and all, but it's been awhile and…you just stopped. You were just laying on top of me for like two minutes before I could get your attention."  
  
"What are you talking about?" he all but hissed. He climbed to his feet immediately and pulled on his discarded shirt. His pants had never been completely taken off. "You're too good to please?" he snapped. "Little Princess can't be patient? No man is good enough to please her? What about your scum of an ex? Was he good enough, Princess?"  
  
"Vegeta!" Bulma sat straight up, too shocked to cover her naked body; and she was completely without clothing. In his slow and agonizing manner, Vegeta had made sure of that. "What the hell are you attacking me for? First I push you away and you scream, and now I want you and you scream. Pick one. Kami…"  
  
"Shut up. Just shut up. I don't need this from you."  
  
"I don't need a lot of things either, Vegeta, but you seem to give me plenty of that. Now you tell me what this is all about, or I'm calling a cab and going to the airport. I don't care how fucking late it is. I cannot stand another episode like this." She took a deep breath, then said, "Tell me or I leave."  
  
Vegeta only turned and stormed into the next room, throwing curses left and right, and hurriedly packing his bag, though he was only stuffing towels and mini shampoos into his suitcase, for they hadn't been there long enough to unpack. After a few minutes of hysterics, however, the other room went quiet, and for several moments, Bulma held her breath.  
  
"I'm not going to tell you," he finally said, entering the bedroom. "Not really. Just that I don't think it's right for us to be…whatever we are. It's not going to work and we'll just end up—"  
  
"Hating each other?" Bulma offered, as she pulled a complimentary bathrobe over her now clothed body.  
  
"Yeah…" he sighed. He walked all the way up to her, though stopped himself from wrapping his arms around her. She, however, was not so afraid, and indulged in one last kiss before she allowed herself to let go of the man who could very well have been the man she was supposed to end up with. "I have to make a call," he said, stepping back. "Jun's going to tear me a new one when I get back anyway, so I might as well soften the blow now."  
  
"Alright. I'm going to go outside for a minute and look at the view."  
  
"It's freezing outside," he protested, in the midst of dialing.  
  
"I know," she laughed and gave him a pat on the head. "I'll be fine. I'm only going out for a minute. I want to see how Greece looks at night, since we're heading out in the morning."  
  
"Ok. I'll be in the den. I'm going to start a fire and grab some marshmallows."  
  
"Good idea."  
  
She turned to exit out their bedroom door, onto the balcony, that she knew overlooked Athens, when Vegeta grabbed her arm gently.  
  
"Spain," was all he said, then disappeared through the opposite doorway and down the hall.  
  
"Good," Bulma said to herself, pulling her rode tighter. "I've always wanted to go there."  
  
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
"That's impossible!" Vegeta stammered, nearly smacking his head on the fireplace's mantle as he stood. "She can't do that!"  
  
"She can, and she is," Jun said on the other line. "And right now I need you to get on a plane and come home. The sooner we sort all of this out, the more likely our chances to win."  
  
"More likely!? She's insane, Jun! How can we lose?"  
  
"Well, seeing as the day I find out we're being sued you fly off to Europe…So yeah, Vegeta, I think she may have a chance. That and the little fuck up 18 did. And, of course, all your wonderful liaisons with half your fans!"  
  
"There's no way she can win. Our lawyers are too smart for that. Every lawsuit we've had they've beaten. None ever made it to the papers, that's how good they are."  
  
"Yeah, but we're talking about Sen, Vegeta. She has money, plenty of money. Ours and her own. She can hire the best lawyer in America, or Japan for that matter, and win. Plus, she has media power. She's a semi-well-known author. People know her name. If she can get one paper to print her story, it'll be all over the news by that night. We need to get a strategy and we need you here to do that. So ditch your little fling and come back!"  
  
"She is NOT my little fling," Vegeta retorted before he could stop himself. "She's nothing, ok? I didn't even fucking sleep with her if you must know. She's…" He trailed off as Bulma entered the room, her cheeks pink from the cold. He pointed to the marshmallows, graham crackers, and chocolate bars on the coffee table. She nodded.  
  
"She's what?"  
  
"Like 18," he forced out, gritting his teeth.  
  
"Whatever. I don't care. She's not important. She has nothing to do with this. Just get your ass in Satan City by tomorrow. I'll call Sen and set up a meeting."  
  
"No."  
  
"What do you mean, no? Vegeta—"  
  
"I'll be back in two days. That's the best I can do."  
  
"The best!?" Jun hissed. Bulma heard her across the room and tried not to laugh. "Vegeta, your career is over if this whore wins."  
  
"I don't care. I'll be there in two days. Start without me if you're so hell-bent on it."  
  
"Vege—"  
  
"What was that all about?" Bulma asked.  
  
"Sen," he grumbled, grabbing the two skewers he'd set on the mantle. He handed one to Bulma, then stuffed a marshmallow on his own.  
  
"What about her?"  
  
"She's suing us."  
  
"What? That sounds serious Vegeta. Maybe we should—"  
  
"I'm not going back, ok? Not for that bitch. She's screwed with me too many times. She's not going to ruin my vacation. Besides, we've been sued before. We never lose."  
  
"If you're sure, then ok."  
  
"I'm sure."  
  
"Here." She grabbed Vegeta's wrist and pulled his arm back, so his marshmallow wasn't surrounded by raging flames. "It won't get burnt if you hold it just above the flames, like this."  
  
He only rolled his eyes, and eased in next to her. If he couldn't enjoy an open relationship with her, then he sure as hell was going to enjoy smelling her apple shampoo when she wasn't looking.  
  
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
10:16 am and Bulma and Vegeta stepped off the small private jet, onto a small runway in Madrid, Spain. The wind was calmer here than in the lower mountains of Greece, but the air was just as cold and biting. Bulma wrapped her heavy French coat tighter and brought the collar up to semi-shield her face (I imagine her coat looking like Rose's did on Titanic. You know, the purplish one with the black designs that she left behind). But, despite the cold, she felt completely happy to finally be in Spain, a country she'd wanted to visit ever since she'd gotten her hands on an art book.  
  
"I have to visit the Prado," she said to Vegeta as they walked towards their rented limo. She smiled at the gesture; their trip seemed to get more luxurious as they went along.  
  
"Why else would I bring you to Spain in the middle of winter?" Vegeta sighed, opening the back door of the limo. Bulma climbed in and settled by the window, stretching out her legs.  
  
"We came to Spain JUST to go to the Prado?"  
  
"If you like Anzai, then you like art too. And the Prado has my favorite artist, so yes, just for the Prado."  
  
"Whose your favorite artist?"  
  
"Who else?" he laughed, then tapped the glass between the back cabin and the driver's cabin. "Hieronymus Bosch."  
  
"Really!?" Bulma all but yelled, holding onto her seat as the car lurched forward. "He's mine too!"  
  
"I should have known."  
  
The trip to the museum took no more than fifteen minutes, and, within moments, Bulma was standing at the entrance to the Prado, a place she'd only wished to visit until now. It was a slightly ancient-looking building, with four great columns at the higher entrance, and three modern glass double doors at the lower entrance. To reach the columned entrance, one had to take either of the two staircases; one to the right and one to the left, both towering over the lower entrance. Once they were inside, Bulma let out a deep breath and grabbed Vegeta's wrist.  
  
"I have to see the 'Seven Deadly Sins and the Four Last Things' and 'The Garden of Earthly Delights'."  
  
"Favorites?" Vegeta asked offhandedly as he paid for two tickets.  
  
"Favorite and most famous." She glanced around the bustling main lobby, a permanent smile etched in her features. "What's your favorite?"  
  
"My two favorites aren't here," he said, almost sadly as they made their way to the Bosch paintings. "'Death of the Reprobate' and 'Ascent of the Blessed'. I've seen 'Ascent' in Venice, but the other one is in a private collection in New York. But, my favorite one here is the 'Creation of the World'."  
  
"I'm very impressed," Bulma laughed, as they turned the corner. "I would have thought 'The Garden' would be your favorite, what with all the suggestiveness."  
  
"I'm more cultured than you let yourself believe."  
  
"Right, 'Geta, keep telling yourself that. You—" But the sight of the magnificent, and worldly famous, triptych caught Bulma's attention and she stopped in her tracks, jaw dropped. Several people ran into her on accounted of her sudden halt, but once the painting came into view, all were silent. "It's amazing," she whispered, her hand absently slipping into Vegeta's. "I can't believe I'm here."  
  
"That's what I said the first time I came here too."  
  
"But where's the 'Seven Deadly—" Again she was taken back by the painting she was looking for. It was everything she would have thought about it seeing it in person. She combed every inch of it with her eyes, stopping in several places to better see the details. After a long while, she let out a small gasp and turned to Vegeta. "You made my year," she said, in all seriousness.  
  
"How long will you be?"  
  
"In the Bosch section?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Can you give me an hour? Then we can look at the rest of the museum if you like."  
  
"No," he said, almost sternly. "We have a flight to catch in three hours. After you're done here, we're going to this restaurant I like, and then back to the runway."  
  
"Where do we go from there?"  
  
"The best for last," was all he said, then continued down the gallery towards his favorite painting, leaving Bulma to admire hers in peace.  
  
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
Bulma decided to chance another phone call home before they left Spain and headed south, wherever that might be. In the privacy of a back booth in a charming Spanish restaurant, Bulma dialed the number for Chi-Chi's, figuring that she might catch Krillin there as well. Vegeta took it upon himself to order for them, practically demanding that Bulma get a certain dish. She didn't care. She wanted to reconcile with Chi-Chi before she got home.  
  
"Hello?" came a voice finally. Bulma sighed, it was Mr. Mau.  
  
"Hi Ox," she said, nodding to the waiter who brought her tea. "Is Chi-Chi there?"  
  
"No, I'm sorry dear. She and Goku went to dinner."  
  
"Oh, right. It's later over there. Hey, what time are they coming back?"  
  
"I'm not sure. Sorry."  
  
"Do you know if Krillin is home or not?"  
  
"No," he laughed, startling Bulma just a little. "He's right here, with Maris. We're all playing Scrabble, and she's creaming us."  
  
"Really!? Can you put him on?"  
  
"Sure thing dear. Oh, how's your trip?"  
  
"It's great, I'll tell you all about it when I get back."  
  
"Splendid."  
  
"Hello?" Krillin's annoyed voice came on.  
  
"Are you alright?"  
  
"Yeah, Maris is pissing me off though. I keep losing turns 'cause I keep challenging her words."  
  
"Oh, I'm sorry. Hey, can you tell me if Chi-Chi said anything to you? You know, about our fight."  
  
"Not much," he sighed, then swore under his breath. "She mentioned you called and got into a fight, that's about it. I think she's just jealous though, to tell you the truth. Goku's not capable to really take her anywhere in his condition. And, well, Vegeta just doesn't seem like the romantic type. Goku does."  
  
"I see what you mean…Hmm…Can you tell her something for me?"  
  
"Sure."  
  
"I bought her something in Paris, something she's going to love. It's clothing. Can you remember that?"  
  
"No, please, tell…me…slow…er…"  
  
"Stop. Oh, and I got you and Maris something too."  
  
"Awesome. What?"  
  
"Stop. I'll be home in a few days. Bye cueball."  
  
"Hey!"  
  
Bulma hung up before he could protest, just in time for their meals to arrive.  
  
"Damn, that was fast."  
  
"Big tips," Vegeta said, then dug into his lunch.  
  
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
Bulma let out an anxious gasp as the plane began to descend over their next and final destination. It was a warm place, covered in sand and sunlight, though the sun was beginning to set over the horizon. Miles stretched out in all directions, but Bulma's eyes seemed to stay stationary on a few objects. Pyramids.  
  
They were flying onto a small—private—runway in Egypt, which Bulma figured cost a hefty sum. A few homes were in the distance, and something told her that one of them was where they were headed.  
  
"Stop making me love you," she said as the plane came to a complete stop.  
  
"I'm trying…" Vegeta sighed, then stood to grab their luggage.  
  
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
---Chapter 23! :D Well, I know I pissed some people off with not having Bulma and Vegeta get together just yet, but don't worry! I WILL! I PROMISE! :D I have my plans, and this was definitely part of it.  
  
REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (Reviews=More Chapters) …and less broken bones ;)  
  
Next time: Back home and the wrath of Sen, LOL!  
  
Note: I've never been to any of the places I wrote about. I was just winging it. The description of the outside of the Prado I got from a picture off the internet. I don't know what the inside looks like…and I have NO clue about Egypt. So bear with me :P 


	24. Their Egyptian Secret

Last time:  
  
"Stop making me love you," she said as the plane came to a complete stop.  
  
"I'm trying…" Vegeta sighed, then stood to grab their luggage.  
  
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
For the remainder of the night, and it was nearly 6:00 pm when they landed, Bulma and Vegeta spent in the company of their host. Instead of renting a private home or apartment—though Bulma didn't know if there were any around this area—Vegeta took it upon himself to lodge with a complete stranger. He only knew the man, and his wife and six children, by phone, but their relationship seemed solid to Bulma, who watched in awe as they spoke to one another. They spoke Arabic, the official language of Eygpt, and, to Bulma's utter amazement, Vegeta did too. She herself hadn't fully learned the language, but was in the process of learning it and several others at the time. She knew ten languages at the moment, and was in training with four others. Five of the ones she was fluent in she spoke regularly with her father at work, and teachers at school.  
  
The home they were staying in was modest, with enough bedrooms for everyone to have their own, even Bulma and Vegeta—together, of course. Their host, Uthman, and his wife, Basilah, only assumed they were a couple; neither bothered to correct this mistake.  
  
Tomorrow—or so Bulma gathered from what she could understand—Uthman and Basilah were going to take Bulma and Vegeta on a tour of the surrounding land, including going inside some pyramids. The Sphinx, however, was too far away for them to travel there in one day. But, upon hearing this, Bulma didn't bat an eyelash. The pyramids were enough for her for now; they could keep her occupied for well over just one short day. She was content with what her hosts could offer. "Besides," she thought idly, "we can see the Sphinx next time."  
  
Finally, at just about 11:00 pm, Uthman and Basilah said their goodnights and retired to their room. Bulma and Vegeta were left in the living room in silence. After several long minutes, Bulma couldn't take it anymore and said, "I'm going outside. That breeze keeps blowing in here and its tempting me."  
  
She stood and made for the door, and was nearly outside, when she noticed Vegeta was following her. As she turned, he pulled her to him and captured her lips with his. For a long moment, they simply stood there, entangled in each other, a warm breeze sweeping around them with tiny bits of sand tickling the backs of their legs.  
  
"We can't do this," Bulma whispered, resting her head on his shoulder. He didn't bother to let go. "Not if we can't be together."  
  
"Are you saying you want to be together?" The question held more meaning than either could know.  
  
"What do you think?"  
  
They both sighed at once. Common tactic; answer a question with a question to avoid giving a truthful, and very difficult, answer.  
  
"I think we shouldn't be together, and so does everyone else."  
  
"Why?" Bulma asked, pulling her head back.  
  
"Because," he sighed, his face stone cold and pinched, as though he were thinking of his worst enemy. What Bulma didn't know, however, was that he actually was. Love. His worst and most feared adversary. "Too much alike. Always fighting. A lot of headaches. It's not worth it."  
  
"Why? So you can have your whores every other night and not have to worry about it?"  
  
"No." He remained calm at her accusation. "Have I been with anyone else since I took interest in you?"  
  
"No," she admitted, shying away. They were both thinking of the same thing, though neither wished to bring it up and further spoil the mood. "There's no way, is there?"  
  
"Look." He held her out at arm's length, his face calm and placid; a face she'd never seen on him before. There was no hint of anger or hostility as there usually was, and when he spoke, it was void of those emotions as well. "We go home tomorrow night. Until that plane touches down in Satan City, we can be whatever we want. But, when we get off that plane—"  
  
"We're just friends," Bulma finished for him, her eyes beginning to water. "I wish you said that last night."  
  
"Apparently," he laughed, bitterly, "I became a genius in twenty-four hours."  
  
"I'll say."  
  
Without another word, they descended the few steps off the back porch and onto the cooled desert sand. Neither wore shoes—for Uthman had politely asked them to remain barefoot in the house—and both were dressed in fashionable modern Egyptian clothing. Vegeta wore a long white cotton shirt, with an open collar, and long sleeves, and baggy black shorts of the same material that cut off just below his knees. Bulma wore the same type of shirt, though hers was a light blue color, and instead of long shorts, she wore a long black skirt with slits up both sides to her mid-thigh. She wore some jewelry as well—everything compliments of Vegeta at a local merchant—a simple silver plate necklace with a fake jewel embedded in the center, several jingling silver bracelets, and a silver anklet (I have no clue what modern Egyptian clothes look like. I just winged that, but its all fiction so who cares! :P).  
  
The sand was still slightly warm from the day's sun, but nothing compared to what Bulma figured it should feel like; ten times worse than a normal day at the beach. They walked for nearly a half a mile in silence, their fingers laced together, steps now in sync with each other. A small pond with palm trees lay in the distance, which looked much like a mirage. They made their way towards it, both beginning to feel the night as it suddenly started to bear down on them. It was freezing in the desert at night, only it didn't seem to register with them until just now.  
  
"It's beautiful here," Bulma mused, taking a seat on a tuft of grass next to the water. Vegeta followed suit, seemingly unaffected by the cold. "I don't think I want to go back just yet. Just a few more days? I don't want to go back to reality."  
  
"I have to deal with that Sen nonsense. She's really fucked up this time. I didn't think she'd ever actually sue us. Stupid bitch."  
  
"Where did you learn Arabic, Vegeta?"  
  
"A book," he said simply, the Vegeta shell beginning to harden right before her eyes. Oh well, at least she'd glimpsed that kind-ish part of him, something not many others could say. "I know more than French and Arabic."  
  
"Yeah? What else?"  
  
He sighed heavily and splashed his feet into the icy water. "Spanish, Latin, Greek, Hebrew, Italian, German, Aramaic, Chinese, Russian, English…er…some African languages, Finnish…Sign Language…I think that's it."  
  
"Damn, and here I thought I was the only 18 year old that new that many languages. You have me beat though." Vegeta looked at her, almost surprised. She was, after all, a true genius. "I'm only just learning Arabic, Hebrew, and Portuguese. I'm not even starting African languages for another few years. I need to focus on my science, get a good grip for college, so I can prove myself to everyone that I'm not just Dr. Briefs' pretty little daughter."  
  
"I don't know Portuguese," was all Vegeta said, wrinkling his nose. He'd meant to learn it, but then Sen happened, and, well, he didn't have time anymore.  
  
"You want to learn it with me? I'm further along in Arabic and Hebrew. I've hardly started Portuguese. I only know numbers, verbs, and the basic phrases. Simple stuff."  
  
"I don't have time for that."  
  
"But you have time to fly off to Europe, and Africa, on a second's notice and stay for a week?"  
  
Vegeta grunted and pulled his feet from the water.  
  
"Come on. Mondays and Fridays you come by and we'll learn Portuguese for, let's say, two hours a day. And then my mom will make a big dinner, since I know you have an appetite."  
  
"Only if I get other benefits," he said slyly, a smirk pulling at his lips.  
  
Bulma laughed.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Nothing. It's just, even after we decided to not be more than friends, you're still trying to get into my pants."  
  
"Instinct," he muttered, then stood up, offering his hand to Bulma. She took it, of course, and when she was to her feet, they instantly fell victim to their hormones, and emotions. It wasn't until Bulma shivered noticeably that Vegeta let go, his lips still lingering millimeters from hers when he said, "We need to sleep for tomorrow. Lots of walking."  
  
"I'll kill that stupid bitch," she muttered under her breath, refusing to let him go. How was it that here—or any of the other places in Europe for that matter—Bulma could feel free to express every emotion she had? But, at home, she shielded herself from everything short of mild conversation with Vegeta? She couldn't explain it, nor did she care to, for this night, and the following day, were all she could have with him. And then, once Satan City was under her feet, they would return to cold mutual friends. Kami was definitely angry about something.  
  
"Yeah, you and the rest of us."  
  
"If she wasn't suing you guys—"  
  
"Don't ask me that," he snapped, pulling away. The cold atmosphere now reflected the coldness she was so used to seeing. "Now hurry up. Ten more minutes and you won't be able to move you'll be shivering so bad."  
  
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
The attire for the day was light canvas shirts and long shorts, with high boots to keep sand from getting between the toes and being an annoyance. Basilah was the only person wearing a light robe over her long shorts, as she customarily wore. Other than that, all six people—two other friends of Uthman and Basilah's also joined them—were dressed alike and carried similar packs containing food, plenty of water, and emergency equipment: first aid, etc. The packs weren't heavy, though very annoying and slowed the group. That, and the intense heat. Even in the winter, the sun was sweltering, and more than once Bulma found herself winded and needed to wipe her brow.  
  
"Not much longer," Uthman called back to Bulma, who was lagging behind. Vegeta, surprisingly, decided to stay back with her, further demonstrating to their hosts that they were a couple. "Just over this hill. You'll see it once we're at the top."  
  
"We better," Bulma mumbled to herself. She hadn't planned on trekking miles across the desert.  
  
No sooner had she said that, then she was to the top of the small hill, staring spellbound at the sight before her. Four pyramids stood in plain view, seeming to rise from the sand, the area around them virtual deserted, save for a few people here and there, but nothing like Bulma had imagined.  
  
"Where is everyone?" she asked, coming up next to Basilah. Vegeta translated.  
  
"She says they don't get many tourists in this part of Egypt. Most people visit the Sphinx and what's in that area. We're miles from the Sphinx, so most tourists overlook these pyramids."  
  
"But they've been explored, right?" Stupid question.  
  
"Why wouldn't they be? Uthman and Basilah, and those other two men, are guides for their area. That's why we stayed with them. I picked these pyramids because not many people come here," he sighed, then glanced at the four looming structures below. "Now hurry up. They have other things to do, you know."  
  
"Sorry for wanting to know a little about where I'm going," she said, with a snotty undertone, following him and the others down the hill. "Pyramids have booby traps, you know. Forgive me for not wanting my head chopped off."  
  
"Do you honestly think I'd bring you into a rigged pyramid?" he spat, not turning his head.  
  
"I don't know. It's hard to tell with you."  
  
"Shut up. The traps were set off decades ago. No one goes into unexplored parts of the pyramids anymore. Don't you know anything?"  
  
"I know you're an egotistical jackass."  
  
"You have a very strange relationship," said one of the other guides, the shortest of the three Egyptian men. Both looked at him in quiet astonishment. Neither knew he spoke Japanese. "I speak several trade languages," he said, as if sensing their confusion. And, without anymore input or explanation, he continued down the hill next to Uthman, who burst out laughing after a few seconds.  
  
"Did you catch that?" Bulma whispered to Vegeta.  
  
He ignored her, however, and hurried along. She had to practically run to keep up.  
  
Ten minutes later, and they were entering the closest of the massive structures. And, even after Vegeta promised there was no possible way there could be any traps, Bulma still took a second look at everything she passed, which, for about a quarter of a mile, was only stone wall and mounted torches.  
  
"No electricity?" Bulma asked, leaning in closer to Vegeta. He took this opportunity to get close to her, and wrapped his arm around her shoulders.  
  
"You're insane, you know that? Why would they bother? Torches work fine, and that little town we're staying in doesn't have money enough to waste on lacing four enormous pyramids with lights for the few hundred tourists they have each year."  
  
"That few, huh?"  
  
Finally, after five minutes of hallway, they came to an opening; a vast room with a high ceiling and crumbling alters. Several stone statues stood in seemingly random places, and, as Bulma's eyes adjusted to the dim light, she discovered many sarcophagi. And, instead of being repulsed or terrified—as Vegeta expected—her eyes grew wide and a knowing smile graced her lips.  
  
"Can we look inside them?" she asked excitedly, picking up the pace. The four guides stopped in the center of the room and appeared to be bored already.  
  
Vegeta rolled his eyes, but asked none-the-less. He was surprised by the answer.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Yeah…" he said, still skeptical. That is, until Uthman and another man approached the closest sarcophagus and lifted the lid, carefully leaning it against the stone coffin. Bulma could hardly believe their strength.  
  
As they approached the artfully decorated casket, Bulma felt a tingle rush through her. All her life she'd been fascinated with things like this; the Egyptians and how they mummified people, however, was in the top five of her list. The inside was a disappointment though, only another, plain coffin. Sadly, Bulma drew back and sighed.  
  
"What?"  
  
"I wanted to see the body."  
  
Vegeta relayed the message to Uthman, who laughed, then answered.  
  
"What?"  
  
"He says there are many sarcophagi inside one another. And the body isn't here."  
  
"Well where the hell is it?"  
  
"Stolen."  
  
"What about another coffin?"  
  
"There's only one that wasn't taken, but they said they won't open it. A King's sarcophagus is in another chamber. They only know the body is still there because when they discovered the chamber, there were three skeletons inside, speared through the chests."  
  
"Why won't they open it?" She seemed to have ignored most of what he'd said.  
  
"Would you shut your trap and think of the obvious."  
  
Bulma frowned.  
  
"Its sacred," he sighed, agitated.  
  
"So, what? I can't see any of the bodies?"  
  
Vegeta sighed again, then asked.  
  
"The furthest pyramid away has two bodies you can see. One is a cat, though."  
  
"I would have expected that. But the last one? Damn, that's a lot of walking."  
  
"Do you want to see it or not?"  
  
"Whatever," she huffed, then stormed out of the pyramid, confusing their hosts.  
  
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
Halfway to the last pyramid—and it was quite a distance away—Bulma slowed her pace and allowed the others to catch up to her. She was only angry at herself, however, for everything she'd wished she'd done differently with Vegeta, from the very first time she'd met him. But, she'd been too self-conscious then, and extremely protective of her heart, which, up until then, she'd never really considered giving to anyone. And now, after knowing Vegeta for only three months, she felt a deep connection and an even deeper need to be something wonderful in his eyes. There was no way she could know that that's exactly what was beginning to happen, that he had no control over his mind anymore and was slipping into a world completely alien to him. He was no more stable to begin a relationship with her than she was. And both of them were kicking themselves for mistakes along the way.  
  
"This pyramid shall not be a disappointment," said the friendly Japanese-speaking Egyptian, as he passed Bulma and headed the group.  
  
"But I'm sure you'll find something to complain about," Vegeta muttered under his breath, from three feet back. Bulma forced herself to ignore his comment, and focused instead on the pyramid they were headed towards. It was nothing different from the other three on the outside, but, as soon as they crossed the threshold, Bulma's sensed a big difference.  
  
"It…feels weird in here," she said, more to herself.  
  
"This one," the friendly Egyptian said, standing beside her once again, "is not…completely excavated. The soul still pulses." Then, eerily, he moved passed her and down the corridor, torch in hand.  
  
"The soul still pulses," Bulma muttered to herself, rolling her eyes.  
  
The walk to the center of the pyramid was quite a bit longer than the first, and, the end of the hall was completely different. Not only was the main area bigger, but in order to reach it, the group had to descend over two hundred stairs.  
  
"I don't like how this looks," Bulma admitted. She stayed at the top as the others went down before her.  
  
"What?" Vegeta sighed, looking down at the main room.  
  
"Look how steep they are! I could break my neck on those!"  
  
"Stop whining and go down. You made us walk all the way here to see a damn body, and I'm not leaving here until you do."  
  
Bulma only lifted her chin and started the long descent down, taking each step carefully. Vegeta took them two at a time, and was halfway down when she was still on the thirtieth stair. As he neared the bottom, he looked back up at her and smirked. With all her gloating, she was sure making an ass of herself, being scared of a few stairs. Bulma caught the look and picked up her pace, willing herself to be unafraid of the incline.  
  
"So what if I fall," she said aloud. "I won't get THAT hurt."  
  
By the one hundred-and-fiftieth step, she had a good pace going, but her heart was racing a mile a minute. For a split second she closed her eyes to calm her nerves, and, just as she did, she lost her footing.  
  
And everything went black.  
  
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
Sen couldn't have picked a better time—and a better band for that matter—to prey on. Already Green Dragon was surrounded by controversy because of Vegeta's unwillingness to keep a steady girlfriend. They were weak and easy to manipulate, and, ever since Sen found herself pregnant and alone, she'd become quite the manipulator.  
  
Quietly, she made her way across the room, careful not to wake Ryoko, and crossed off another day on the calendar. With a heavy sigh, she capped her pen and started to get ready for bed. How long had it been since she'd been happy, truly happy? And madly in love? By the calendar she guessed a year, maybe a little more. And how long since she'd seen him, the man she'd given her heart to so certainly, only to have it stomped on?  
  
"Someday," she told herself, squeezing a glob of toothpaste on her brush. "He'll be back and Ryoko will have a real father."  
  
But, even as the hope filled her, she knew it was all a lie and slowly brushed her teeth.  
  
She remembered the last day she saw him, perfectly, down to the way the collar of his shirt was folded up, ready for a tie, and the small scuff mark on one of his shoes he hadn't gotten a chance to remove. It was late afternoon, and he was just getting ready to leave on a business trip. He would only be gone for a couple of days, but she couldn't remember a time she'd been sadder. She never wanted to be without him, not for a second.  
  
"Call me when you land?" she said hopefully, as he bustled around the apartment, making sure he had everything.  
  
"No," he laughed, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek as he walked passed her and into the bathroom to grab his toothbrush. "I'm going to make you wonder where I am so you'll send a search party to come find me."  
  
"Yeah," she countered, leaning against the doorframe. "And I'll find you in a sleazy hotel room with a hooker."  
  
"She said she was going to kill me, I swear."  
  
Their laughter rang through the modestly sized apartment, then suddenly fell dead.  
  
"Don't be gone too long," she whispered, toying with the hem of her shirt.  
  
"Only as long as I have to be. I promise."  
  
"I…Be safe."  
  
"Stop worrying," he laughed, with a hint of sadness. It was hitting him hard too. "I'll be fine."  
  
"You sure have a lot of stuff for only a few days."  
  
"I need to impress these people, honey. And if that means changing forty different times before the meeting, then so be it. Now stop giving yourself a migraine and give me a kiss."  
  
When she released him for the final time at the cab outside their apartment, there was no way of knowing it would be the last time she'd hold him.  
  
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
Bulma awoke to the sound of Vegeta's voice, and a pounding headache. When she finally willed her eyes to open, five faces were hovering over her, and she instinctively backed up. She didn't get far, however, for Vegeta's arms were wrapped tightly around her, his face full of relief.  
  
"What the hell happened?" she snapped.  
  
"You fell," the Japanese-speaking Egyptian said. "Fifty stairs."  
  
"That's five flights!" Bulma realized, glaring angrily at Vegeta, who flinched noticeably. "Hurry up, huh? Look where hurrying got me, asshole!"  
  
"Don't blame him madam, please. He didn't know that step was loose. I should have told you all, but I forgot."  
  
"Loose? What do you mean, loose?"  
  
"A large piece of it came off when you stepped on it."  
  
"That's wonderful," she grumbled, trying to stand, but immediately five sets of hands pushed her back down.  
  
"You need to stay there for now," Uthman said, crouching beside her. "We don't know the extent of your injuries."  
  
"I feel fine. Now let me up."  
  
"If you get up," Vegeta said, "we're going straight to a hospital. You can forget about seeing the bodies."  
  
"Fine. How bad do I look?"  
  
No one answered.  
  
"I said," she seethed, through her teeth, "how bad do I look?"  
  
Basilah reached into her sack and pulled out a small mirror. Bulma gasped.  
  
"Oh well," she laughed bitterly. "I don't like having my picture taken anyway."  
  
She couldn't remember a time she'd been this roughed up. When she was a kid, she'd run around with Krillin and Chi-Chi; wrestling, throwing rocks; the kinds of things all kids did in their youth. But it had always been little cuts and bruises and scrapes on the knees. Nothing like this.  
  
Above her right eye, just above her eyebrow, was a large gauze soaked through almost completely with blood, and poorly attached. Other scrapes and cuts were around the bandage as well, telling her that she must have fallen directly on her forehead, exactly where the bandage was. There was a very visible bruise on her right cheekbone, a sizable cut on her lower lip, and another large scrape on her chin. She looked like she'd gotten into a fight…and lost.  
  
"I don't have any broken bones, right?"  
  
Uthman shook his head.  
  
"Well, my right leg hurts a little, but other than that I'm fine. Can I get up now?"  
  
Vegeta only rolled his eyes and helped her to her feet, his heart rate finally beginning to slow to normal. He couldn't remember a time he'd been so scared.  
  
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
"Another six hour flight," Bulma sighed, easing into the soft cushions of the private jet. Since they had more time to plan the trip back, they were able to take a private flight home, and not have to worry about disturbing sleeping passengers. "Well, this gives us time to come up with an explanation for everything."  
  
"I don't need to explain myself to anyone," Vegeta retorted. The engines started, but neither paid any attention.  
  
"Ok, fine. Not them, but what about me? You never told me why you dropped everything to take me on a grand tour for almost a week."  
  
"Would you rather I didn't?"  
  
"That's not what I said. But I'd like to know why. I'm pretty sure you haven't done this with anyone else. Why me? Why not some other girl?"  
  
"You know why." The fasten seatbelt sign went off and Vegeta unbuckled himself and stood. Across from where they were buckled in, was a luxurious couch, complete with mini-bar and a television. "You're a challenge," he said, sitting on the couch. Bulma stayed where she was. "I'm fascinated by you. I want to know more."  
  
"It's funny," she said, not looking the least bit amused. "You sound genuine, but I know you're not. I know there's an evil little jerk hiding behind this façade you keep putting up. He keeps popping out and you can't control him, and I know he's who you really are. Be yourself, that might actually work."  
  
"If I was myself," he said, reaching into the mini-bar for some Scotch, "I'd strap you into a parachute pack and push you out of the plane."  
  
"Oh!" He was so startled he nearly dropped his glass. "We need to do that this spring!"  
  
"Do what?" he grunted, wiping at the spilled alcohol on his pants.  
  
"Go skydiving. I've only been a few times, but I LOVED it. As soon as the weather's good, we're going. No excuses."  
  
"Why are we doing this?"  
  
"Doing what? Talking?"  
  
"Well, yeah." He set down his drink and motioned her to come sit by him. She gave him a skeptical look, but obliged. "Did you forget so easily what we said last night?"  
  
"You can't expect me to just sleep with you then pretend like nothing happened. I can't do that Vegeta. If we do anything, I want it going somewhere. But we both know it won't, so why bother? Why half-start something? Why toy with MY emotions!?" Her eyes glistened with the threat of tears. She touched her bandage instinctively; it was still attached properly.  
  
"You could never last in a relationship with me," he finally said, turning his head away.  
  
"And why not?"  
  
"Because," he snapped, "I'd drive you away. That's what happens. I drive girls away. Why the hell do you think I've been single for so long?"  
  
"You seem to enjoy having a new girl every other night."  
  
"I'm through with that adolescent bullshit."  
  
"But…?"  
  
"But there's nothing else for me. Like I said, relationships don't work."  
  
"Well, if you ever change your mind about that, give me a call, ok?"  
  
"Trust me," he sighed, leaning in and giving her a small, but passionate, kiss on the lips. "You'll be the first person I call."  
  
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
---Chapter 24! :D Hmm, that chapter was…well, you tell me! :P Longer, yes :P Heehee. Vegeta does seem too mushy right now though, it's strange. I never write him like this…Oh well, it can't last for long :D Muhahahaha!  
  
REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (Reviews=More Chapters)…and no death…  
  
Next time: Home! gasp  
  
Note: Someone asked me is Anzai Anzai is a real author…Well, I'm sorry to inform you that he is not. He's not even a real person. I made him up off the top of my head.  
  
Also: Someone else left a very angry review for Chapter 18 a few days ago, "Bulma's a slut who doesn't know what the fuck she wants. Vegeta was better off with Sen. I'm giving up on this stupid story."…Man, it sounds like someone is a bit impatient. I guess they're one of those people who like 2 chapter Bulma and Vegeta stories with nothing realistic to them what-so-ever. I'm sorry that I like my stories to have substance and plot twists. I was under the impression that that was entertaining, but I could be wrong…And this person is very brave, not even putting a signed review. All they put was "Duo's Dame", which I can only assume is some feminine-looking gay guy from one of those cheesy "just like ever other anime" animes. I hate those kinds. They're all the same, Jesus! LOL! :P And I'm soooo sick of people with their yaoi bullshit, it's ridiculous. I'm not saying I have anything against gay guys—I happen to know several and a god friend of mine is a lesbian—but enough is enough. And what the hell do the girls get from watching two guys go at it?…Whatever, this rant is over. Obviously, I don't appreciate half-assed insults from half-brained—I'm just going to stop there :P No need to get hostile.  
  
Anyways, I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, and the next is in the process of being thought up :P 


	25. Haunting Past, Unsure Future

Last time:  
  
"Well, if you ever change your mind about that, give me a call, ok?"  
  
"Trust me," he sighed, leaning in and giving her a small, but passionate, kiss on the lips. "You'll be the first person I call."  
  
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
Vegeta sighed heavily and slid to the floor, his back leaning up against the closed door of the plane's bathroom. He put his head in his hands, growled in agitation, and banged the back of his head against the door. Bulma, who was on the other side of that door, yelped then hissed some choice insults. For two hours now she'd been in there. The door was locked and for ten minutes—after she'd first gone in—she'd held it shut with amazing strength. Vegeta benched four hundred pounds, and he couldn't get the door to budge. What he didn't know, of course, was that she worked out regularly as well, and had her determination working with her.  
  
"Tell me again why you're doing this," he groaned. They were getting nowhere. Japan in less than an hour. This was NOT the way he wanted to spend his last few hours with her.  
  
"I'm not going back," she hissed. "I told you that, fifty times. I'm staying on this damn plane."  
  
"Forever?"  
  
She didn't answer. But she didn't need to.  
  
Two hours ago, after ruffling their hair and clothing on the couch, Bulma suddenly slipped from his embrace and began pacing the length of the cabin. Too astonished to speak, Vegeta only looked on.  
  
"We have to stop doing that," she finally said, still walking.  
  
"Doing what?"  
  
"That," she snapped, pointing at the couch. "All that is going to do is make me want you even more. And if I can't have you, I don't want to want you. I have enough going on in my life right now, I don't need to keep playing ping-pong with my emotions."  
  
"I told you," he snapped back, just as venomously, "that when we get home we're done. So it's not going to keep happening. It's done."  
  
"No, you don't get it. It's not done today. Not until one of us actually stops it. And I know you sure as hell won't, so it's up to me. You have nothing at stake here."  
  
"And why not? What the hell do YOU have at stake?"  
  
"My heart," she hissed. "Something you don't have!"  
  
Without giving him a chance to retort, she rushed into the bathroom and hadn't come out since, only saying that she didn't want the vacation to be over, because then "they" would be over. His only consolation was that there was never a "they".  
  
"You know you have to come out when the plane lands, right?"  
  
"Yeah…"  
  
"If you come out," he sighed, rolling his eyes, "I'll make you a promise."  
  
"Make it now," she demanded.  
  
"See how things go when we get back…Maybe I was wrong…Maybe a relationship can work…Who the fuck knows…Maybe…"  
  
The lock on the door clicked and Vegeta jumped to his feet. Moments later Bulma emerged, red-eyed and frazzled.  
  
"I really hate guys sometimes," she sighed, allowing herself to be enveloped into his arms. "I don't fucking get you. You're screwing me up. I don't do shit like this. I don't fall for guys like you, and I certainly don't tell them about it…I hate you."  
  
"Scotch?" was all he could say.  
  
"If I don't get some, I'm jumping out of this plane myself," she said, forcing a laugh. She couldn't know that their trip had strengthened their bond in an irreversible way.  
  
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
For three hours, on the eve of their return, Bulma and Vegeta argued with their friends and family, all of who were expecting them back that day. Within an hour of their arrival, they were all gathered in the living room of Capsule Corp., voices high and emotions heated. The night ended in a fistfight with 18 and Vegeta. Vegeta's mother took him home, by the collar of his shirt, promising him he'd pay for his irresponsibility.  
  
18 was the last to leave, and with reason. Bulma had to play doctor and bandage her lacerated cheek and stop her bloody nose.  
  
"I'm really sorry about this," 18 said, checking Bulma's work in the mirror. "We should have warned you guys that me and Vegeta don't handle our anger with each other well. Three broken arms, five broken noses, too many fractures to count between us."  
  
"And you're still friends?" Bulma found this impossible to believe.  
  
"Couldn't be better. I know, it's weird, but it's how we deal with each other. Trust me, we're golden. When I leave here I'm heading over to his place to finish the fight."  
  
"Excuse me?" Bulma's eyes nearly bulged from her sockets. "You're going to what?"  
  
"Oh no!" 18 laughed, turning from the mirror. "No more punches. After we physically fight, we go our separate ways…well…we're forced our separate ways, and when we've cooled down, we talk things out. It never fails."  
  
"I've never heard of something like that before. You rock stars…"  
  
"I don't know about that. It's just how me and him are. I don't think Vegeta has a normal relationship with ANYONE though."  
  
"Tell me about it," Bulma said under her breath.  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"Nothing…Well, you look fine to me. Better than my wonderful trip into a pyramid."  
  
"You ok after the trial back there?"  
  
"Oh yeah. It was amusing, actually. Nice to see our two groups mixing together so fluidly."  
  
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
Vegeta looked up over the ice pack he'd had held to his black eye; it was already beginning to show noticeable color. When he saw who it was, he returned the pack and didn't say a word. 18 only continued into his room, knowing the routine all too well. She stood at the foot of his bed and smiled.  
  
"What do you want?" he finally snapped.  
  
She only continued to smile.  
  
"Well?"  
  
"How was your trip?"  
  
"Don't patronize me."  
  
"No, seriously." She dropped the smile and came to sit by him. "Really, how was it? Do you think you might actually have feelings for Bulma?"  
  
He scoffed, but didn't answer.  
  
"Fine. What'd you guys do then? Besides almost die in a pyramid."  
  
"Well," he said, lowering his ice pack. "I finally got her into bed…willingly."  
  
"Oh Vegeta," she sighed, shaking her head. That would explain Bulma's lack of back up to him during the twenty-person verbal brawl.  
  
"And you want to know the best part?" he laughed. "I stopped."  
  
18 froze, speechless.  
  
"Me," he continued, still laughing, jabbing a finger into his chest. "We didn't have sex and it's because I stopped us. And—wait, this is good—I don't have a fucking clue why!"  
  
"Maybe you care more about her than you realized," 18 offered. This was completely unexpected; normally they'd be reconciling their differences. But 18 knew how to distinguish between what was more serious. And this new situation was it.  
  
"Or maybe," Vegeta fired back, "I'm just not attracted to snotty brains with the fashion sense of a three-year-old."  
  
"You don't give a fuck how she dresses and you know it. You've told me countless times that you hate how your 'dates' try to dress to impress you. AND you despise 'dumb blondes'. You only date them to trick them. So don't try to fool me for a second with that bullshit."  
  
"She's nothing to me, got it? A toy. A game. She's a challenge, and until I break her I'm not giving up."  
  
"That's a lie!"  
  
"Try me," he seethed, raising the ice back up to his eye.  
  
"Fine then. Play the tough macho arrogant asshole. But I'm warning you, if you break her heart I will personally make sure you never even THINK of doing something like that to anyone again."  
  
"What, like how you made me not want to fly off to Europe for no reason tonight?"  
  
18 hissed and narrowed her eyes.  
  
"Face it, you can't change me. And further more, I don't WANT to change. I like how I am. I can live with being a jerk and having everyone hate me for it. I have my reasons for who I am."  
  
"Lots of people lose their parents, Vegeta!" 18 spat. "This isn't the only way for you to be! You chose the easy road from your problems. That's weak! Cowardly! You father would be so ashamed of you!"  
  
Ten minutes later 18 and Vegeta sat in separate cars on their way to the emergency room.  
  
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
"So, how are we going to win this?" 17 asked, trying to ignore his three bandaged friends. Vegeta's arm was in a sling, fractured at the elbow, and had several bandages on his face and hands. 18 had one bandaged hand, a broken finger, and similar bandages on her face. And Goku, well, he maintained the slowly healing arm and leg. 17 and Jun were the only unscathed people in the room.  
  
"The only problem we have is Sen," Vegeta groaned. "Get her to shut up and the case will drop. Easy."  
  
"No, not easy," Jun snapped. She slammed a copy of today's paper on the table in front of them. They turned to stone before her eyes. No one blinked for five minutes. "By tomorrow the whole world is going to know what fuck-ups you all are. You'll be lucky to play grade school birthday parties when this is over."  
  
But no one was listening. They all stared at the front page heading of the paper: Sen Miyahara, Famous Japanese-Born American Author, Sues Popular Rock Group Green Dragon. The article went on to say that Vegeta Ouji had a one night stand with Sen, dumped her without explanation, then refused to take responsibility for a baby that he couldn't prove wasn't his. Halfway through, 18 was mentioned as a thief and a con-artist, who stole Sen's daughter's blood and took an illegal paternity test, which showed Vegeta to not be the father. Sen was suing for emotional stress, extreme weight loss due to that stress, endangerment of her child, bribing, and, of course, pain and suffering. The amount was staggering, even for Green Dragon.  
  
"Well we can't settle!" 18 protested, pushing the newspaper away. "We'll be broke. We won't survive that kind of loss."  
  
"You know," Jun said, eyeing them all with equal distain, "this little problem could have been easily avoided if you listened to me two years ago."  
  
"That was, and still is, impossible!" Goku shouted, looking awkward as he tried to sit up properly. "This band is NOTHING without all four of us. None of our fans want to see any of us go and be replaced by some stranger. That's career suicide!"  
  
"Who's going to miss a scum like Vegeta!?"  
  
Vegeta didn't flinch. He was used to her insults by now.  
  
"I'm the favorite," he laughed, his usual smirk pasted across his face. "Without me we're all out of jobs. Even you Jun. We happened to fall into your lap at the perfect time. We made you just as much as you made us. Without us you're screwed too. And without me, this band is nothing!"  
  
"If we get through this," Jun seethed, "I NEVER want to hear of you screwing and dumping another girl, is that clear!?"  
  
"Fine!" he roared back, slapping his hand on the table. "I don't need those whores anyway! I'm through with them!"  
  
"That goes double for the Capsule heiress."  
  
Vegeta baulked.  
  
"She's an icon, Vegeta. You hurt her and you're done for. No one touches Capsule Corp., not even a Casanova like you."  
  
"I refuse."  
  
"Then we all burn."  
  
"Vegeta," 18 whispered, pulling on his sleeve. He leaned in reluctantly. "You said yourself that it was only a game with her. Stop playing around and think about what you're putting at risk. It's either having a little fun or keeping your job and your dream. Don't be a jackass!"  
  
"Fine," he sighed, looking around at everyone. "I'll stop seeing Bulma."  
  
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
In twenty minutes Sen was due in Jun's office with her lawyer, to have a little discussion as to whether there was going to be a trial or not. Sen wanted to make sure there would definitely be a trial, for she'd worked the entire scenario out in her head and had her story down perfectly. Only problem was that as she sat in the café down the street from Jun's office, she couldn't get HIM out of her head.  
  
"Just focus," she told herself, stirring her tea that had long ago gone cold.  
  
But the thoughts bombarded her and she slipped back into the past, into the heartbreak, into the time she'd changed completely and became the cold hard woman she was today.  
  
"Hello? Holiday Inn Miami?…Yes, can you connect me to room 423? Last name Sugai…Please, check again. I can't have the number wrong…No one is in 423?…Was there someone this morning?…Ok. Thank you for your time…"  
  
Thank you for your time. From that point on she would find herself saying that phrase countless times to people she went to for answers. But no one had the answers. Most hadn't even heard of who she was looking for. It was like he'd disappeared off the face of the planet. No explanation. No warning. No trace.  
  
"Hello," she said, shaking hands with the manager of the Manhattan Bank. "I know this sounds strange, but I need some information regarding on of your clients."  
  
"What is your relationship to the client, Miss…?"  
  
"Miyahara. Sen Miyahara…I'm Mr. Sugai's girlfriend. We live together, on 33rd street."  
  
"Sugai?"  
  
Sen nodded sadly.  
  
"He was a very respectable client of ours. We were very sorry to see him go."  
  
"See him go?"  
  
"Why yes. About a month ago he came in and closed all of his accounts. Said he got a job offer in another state."  
  
"He CLOSED his accounts?"  
  
"Yes ma'am."  
  
"He said he was leaving town?"  
  
"He was very excited about the new job. He said you and him would have a much better life."  
  
"He mentioned me, by name?"  
  
"Yes, I knew who you were when you told me your name. He talked about you often. But why, might I ask, are you still in Manhattan?"  
  
"I…Just finishing up some business in the city. I'll be leaving soon as well…Uh…Thank you for your time, sir." She stood quickly and hurried out of his office before he had a chance to ask her why she'd come in the first place. When she got outside, she slumped against the side of the building and cried into her hands before a police officer stopped and asked if she was alright. "Bad day," she sighed, wiping her eyes. "But thank you." She continued home and started packing that night. Within three days she was ready and moved to Las Vegas, where she learned her fate as a mother, and found her loophole with Vegeta.  
  
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
"Well?" Chi-Chi asked, as Bulma returned to the living room with a tray of drinks and cookies her mother insisted she bring out.  
  
"Well what?" Bulma sighed, setting down the tray. She plopped into the nearest chair and ignored the snacks and beverages. And so did everyone else.  
  
"You know damn well what," Maris said. "Tell us everything."  
  
"Everything will take too long. But hey, look on my bed. I brought back stuff for you guys. I forgot it upstairs."  
  
"That's not going to work," Chi-Chi said. "You can't just fly off to Europe—"  
  
"And Africa."  
  
"—and Africa for almost a week and not tell us anything. Especially if it's with Vegeta! Come on B, stop holding out."  
  
"Fine," she sighed. She grabbed an iced tea and took a small sip. "What do you want to know?"  
  
"Did you have sex?"  
  
"No. Next question."  
  
"No?"  
  
"Yes, no. Next question."  
  
"Did you come close?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Well tell us!"  
  
"Uh! Fine!" She set down her drink and leaned forward. "We were in Greece—" A gasp rippled through the group. "—and Vegeta rented this house in the mountains. Just for a night. And we just went to each other and were on the bed and…and he asked me if I really wanted to do it, because the last time it happened I pushed him away, and I said yes…and then we were…er…almost there and he just stopped. And I said something to him and he got mad and stormed out of the room. After that he called Jun and found out about the Sen bullshit and we had s'mores."  
  
"Wait, you're telling us that he stopped you guys."  
  
"Yup, that's what I'm telling you. AND he couldn't give me a reason. Typical guy…Ok, next question."  
  
"Umm…Where else did you go?" She shrugged her shoulders. No question could top the last one.  
  
"We went to Paris the first night. He bought me clothes and dinner and we went to the Eiffel Tower and the Louvre. Then we went to Greece and you know what happened there…Then we went to Spain just to go to the Prado. Then—"  
  
"The Prado!?" Maris gasped. "THE Prado? Kami! Did you see Bosch work!?"  
  
"Of course," she laughed. Kami, they were so much alike. "That's the only reason we went."  
  
"I'm so completely jealous of you."  
  
"Thanks…So, anyway…Then we went to Egypt, which through me off 'cause I thought we were staying in Europe the whole time. We stayed with this nice couple and their children, and Chi! Kami! You'll love the clothes I brought back from there. Even I love them and you know how indifferent I am about clothes…So, anyway, we visited the pyramids around there and you know that's how I got my lovely bandages. But hey, at least I got to see some mummified people."  
  
"Damn it Bulma," Maris sighed, finally leaning back into her seat. "If I go to HALF those places I'd be lucky."  
  
"I'll tell you what. This summer, after we graduate, well, after me, Krill, and Chi graduate, we'll all go on a grand tour across Europe and Africa. I want to see temples and jungles and everything I couldn't see this time. Alright?"  
  
Everyone nodded vigorously.  
  
"Alright, now about our presents?"  
  
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
---Chapter 25! Am I cool or what? Heehee. I keep getting these chapters out. But I guess it's 'cause I have so many ideas and I'm really getting into the story myself. For awhile now I've had the whole thing outlined and I know how it's going to end and all the major stuff in between, it's just details that have been holding me up a little bit. But you can't complain, lol, 'cause I'm getting these chapters out SO quickly.  
  
REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (Reviews=More Chapters)…And a chance to win a date with Vegeta!  
  
Next time: The lawyers meeting…And who the hell does Sen keep thinking about!?  
  
Note: Only the author of this story is eligible for the date with Vegeta :P  
  
Another note: Sorry it's taking me so long to get Bulma and Vegeta together. I know how I am with stories, but I never planned on it taking this long. I guess I just didn't want to jump the gun with them so quickly because it's not like they know each other that well. Only three months as of now, so I didn't want Buma (or anyone else) looking like a slut…I promise they will get together, and soon! I'm planning it out and you will not be disappointed! :D 


	26. Holidays: Part One

Last time:  
  
Everyone nodded vigorously.  
  
"Alright, now about our presents?"  
  
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
Sen lifted her head high as she entered Jun's office, her attentive lawyer on her heals. Both women were dressed similarly, with suit coats and knee-length skirts, though Sen's was black while Miss Tamura's was lavender. They took their seats on the left side of Jun's desk and waited for her—or any of the other nine occupants—to speak.  
  
No one did.  
  
"I see you all have separate lawyers," Sen finally said. She straightened her back and brushed a lock of hair from her eyes. "I'm not entirely sure what that means settlement-wise, but I'm sure we can work out something we all can live with."  
  
"No, we can't," 18 hissed, unable to control her temper. "Your settlement will put us all out of work, and if this goes anymore public we'll be ruined. Either way you win."  
  
"Really?" she laughed. "I hadn't thought of that. Silly me."  
  
"Let's just get this over with," Jun cut in, folding her arms on her desk and looking Sen straight in the eyes. She didn't flinch.  
  
"Perfect. I need to pick up my fatherless daughter at the Day Care in two hours."  
  
"Pity won't work here."  
  
"Are you going to offer me a bribe so I'll stay longer?"  
  
"Are you going to blackmail us so you don't?" Jun fired back, full of venom. Sen's eyes narrowed. They had something there. "Look, there's no way in hell we're going to settle on your terms. You're asking for far too much and most of your charges are either false or are canceled out with one of our counter charges. I don't think it'll take more than a half an hour to go through everything. It's up to you how long it takes from there to decide the final outcome."  
  
"Fine then." She motioned to Miss Tamura, who pulled a thick packet of papers from her briefcase. She flipped through them for a moment, then cleared her throat.  
  
"First charge," Miss Tamura said, her Japanese very good for an American. "Bribing."  
  
"We have a counter charge on that," Jun said immediately. She too motioned to a lawyer, Vegeta's lawyer; a high cheek-boned woman with shoulder length bottle blonde hair and fierce black eyes that seemed to match Vegeta's perfectly. No doubt he took particular care in choosing his legal representation.  
  
"Blackmail," the blonde lawyer said, eyeing Miss Tamura the way a lioness eyes her prey. "The only reason my client and his associates gave money to your client was because she was blackmailing him with false claims."  
  
"You can't prove that!" Sen snapped, ready to jump from her chair.  
  
"It's right in the fucking paper," Jun countered. "Front page. Or did you magically not know it was there? 'Miyahara also claims that Ouji refused to acknowledge the fact that her daughter, Ryoko, could be his child as well.' That sounds like some good blackmail to me."  
  
"That says nothing but the truth!"  
  
"Exactly! And blackmailing us is the truth too. There's no way you can win your stupid case if you keep blurting out lies. Or is that your plan of action?"  
  
Sen's face turned a noticeable shade of red and she immediately changed the subject.  
  
"What's this little hospital you're running, anyway? Is this one of YOUR plans? Pity?"  
  
"Watch it," 18 hissed, unsure of what to do with her hands. "Don't you dare start putting us in YOUR league."  
  
"Then what the hell happened?"  
  
"Kami," she groaned, shaking her head. "Me and Vegeta got into a fight, ok? That's how we got hurt. Goku got into a car accident a few weeks ago. As of now 17 hasn't sustained any injuries, but if you don't watch it you—"  
  
"18!" Jun cut in, slamming her hands on her desk. "That's quite enough. From now on I don't want to hear a sound from any of you, is that clear? Let your lawyers do their jobs."  
  
18 sulked down into her chair and crossed her arms as best as she could. She hated being told what to do, especially when she knew she had to do it.  
  
The rest of the meeting was slow and tense. 18, and the rest of Green Dragon, had to bite their tongues for two hours.  
  
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
"Kami, can you believe it?" Chi-Chi suddenly said, almost startling everyone in the room. For the past hour or so they'd been hanging Christmas decorations in Bulma's living room, the last of their four houses. Usually, of course, they only decorated three, but with Maris as a new member of their group, they had one more. But it was all for fun anyway, the decorating parties usually turned into tinsel and streamer fights.  
  
"Believe what?" Krillin asked, pulling a strand of tinsel from his mouth and eyeing it suspiciously. He hadn't even been using tinsel.  
  
"We're going to be spending Christmas with more people than just ourselves. And we'll actually have someone to kiss when the ball drops."  
  
"Maybe for you," Maris said, Bulma nodding along with her.  
  
"What're you talking about? Mar', you have 17, or damn well close to it. And B, you've been making out with Vegeta at every turn."  
  
"Yeah, but we don't have what you guys have."  
  
"You don't need that. Sheesh."  
  
"Yeah," Krillin said. "Last year us three just kissed each other."  
  
"But having 'someone' is a lot different. You know that."  
  
Chi-Chi and Krillin fell silent, knowing the other girls were right. They'd both felt it as the holidays approached. Finally! Someone at this time of the year!  
  
But as they continued with the decorating, the tension didn't lift. If anything, it grew thicker, until Maris couldn't take it anymore and had to say something.  
  
"Do you think he's just stringing me along?"  
  
Everyone went rigid. Truthfully, they didn't know what could possibly be going on in 17's mind. Several times when she wasn't around they'd discussed the situation. She was gorgeous, smart, funny, fun to be around, good-natured, just an all around great person—and 17 acted like she was his sister!  
  
"Well?"  
  
"He likes you," Bulma finally said, biting her lip and not turning from the Christmas tree. "We know he does. There's no way he doesn't. I mean—"  
  
"You mean you have no clue just like I have no clue and if he thinks he can just keep doing this he's got another thing coming! I've been on like twelve dates with the guy and the most he'll do is hold my hand and kiss me, a little, if at all. And I'm sick of it! Five different guys have asked me out this year, guys in your class that I thought I was invisible to. And I said no to all of them because I was waiting for 17 to make a move, and damn it! I'm sick of waiting!" She threw down the wreath she'd been fastening ribbon to and sulked to the floor. "Stupid jerk…"  
  
"Mar', honey," Bulma sighed, coming to her side. "I know it's…er…frustrating, but you have to remember that he's probably really skeptical about starting a relationship with someone who he can't see all the time because of his job. I mean, you still have two years of high school left to go and he's already fully employed and traveling. He probably just wants to make sure his feelings for you—and vice versa—are genuine enough to have a long distance relationship…Or maybe he's just scared. Maybe he's afraid he likes you TOO much, you know?"  
  
"All I know right now is that this crap is pissing me off. I like being happy. I like being that person, and this situation keeps bringing me down. I don't feel like me."  
  
"Look on the bright side." Maris's eyes narrowed. "At least you don't have to deal with Vegeta's bullshit. I want to be in a relationship with him and he says he wants that too, but he's 'no good' at relationships and will just screw up my life. So he won't even give it a try."  
  
"What a jerk."  
  
"Tell me about it. Headache every time. Never fails."  
  
There was a long silence that hung in the air, then Maris stood and continued wrapping the wreath.  
  
"Do any of you know what's going on with the lawsuit?" Krillin asked, suddenly realizing that he didn't.  
  
"About as much as you know," Chi-Chi said. "I really hate that Sen bitch. I don't understand how someone could be as heartless as her."  
  
"Yeah," Maris hissed. "She's going to ruin them. Stupid Vegeta."  
  
"You know," Bulma sighed, stopping just before she hung another ornament on the tree. "I'm beginning to think that not being with Vegeta is a good thing. I mean, he's a jerk, he doesn't really care about anything or anyone, and all the controversy…I think I'm better off…Right?"  
  
Everyone nodded in agreement, though a heavy cloud of confusion hung over them. They all thought—including Bulma—that they were perfect for each other.  
  
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
The sun just begun to set as the last of the guests arrived at Capsule Corp., bundled from the biting cold outside, and happy to be there. Mrs. Briefs greeted all guests as they came in—as always—and told them to "come in, hang your coats to the right, and have fun".  
  
There were more guests than usual this year, on account of Bulma's new friends and their family members, who felt slightly uneasy being there on such happy terms, when the last time they were there everyone's voices competed to be heard.  
  
Bulma smiled widely as she looked around the living room, a smiling face everywhere she turned. Except for on Vegeta, of course, who didn't like parties that he couldn't get drunk at. And, to add to his already sour mood, his mother was there, causing his deeply etched frown to dig even deeper. She tried to catch his attention and motion for him to follow her into the kitchen so she could talk to him for a minute in private—about the Maris and 17 situation and if he knew anything useful about it—but it seemed, no matter how long she stared at him, she never caught his eyes. He looked every which way, but somehow never seemed to even glance near her.  
  
So, not being one to take being ignored lightly, she marched straight over to him in his secluded corner seat and plopped right in his lap. He hadn't seen her coming, and caught himself just in time before he yelped. For a minute, without saying a word, he tried to get her off his lap. She wouldn't budge.  
  
"What?" he finally huffed.  
  
"You've been ignoring me all night. I didn't think that just because we weren't seeing each other we couldn't be friends. What's your problem?"  
  
"You're my problem," he grunted, turning his head away. She grabbed his face, squeezing his lips into a fish mouth, and forced him to make eye contact with her.  
  
"I don't believe you. You're hiding something, and if you don't tell me—and tell me the truth—I'll just ask 18 and I know she'll tell me." She let go of him to let him speak.  
  
"What makes you so sure?"   
  
"She's a better person than you. Now tell me."  
  
"Then ask her, and leave me the hell alone."  
  
"You know, I don't buy this jackass routine for a second. I think there's a nice guy hiding in you somewhere, but you're just too afraid of getting hurt to let him out. But fine, have it your way. But if whatever she tells me ruins my night you're in for an ear-full, got it?"  
  
She grabbed his face once more before he could protest and snagged a kiss. Then, before he knew it, she was across the room with her arm around 18. He sighed deeply. There was no way she wouldn't hate him after tonight.  
  
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
Sen yawned deeply as she walked into her hotel room's living room, having finally gotten Ryoko to fall asleep. She walked directly to the couch and flopped down, her eyes naturally going towards her Christmas tree. Suddenly she missed America more than ever and wished for nothing more than to be back at home, away from Japan and all the bad ties she'd made with it. Why did it have to be a Japanese man she found that night? Of the all nationalities in Vegas, and he was Japanese.  
  
For too long she'd been trying to shed her Japanese heritage, wanting all connections severed. The only thing she'd maintained that was Japanese after moving to America was her lifelong boyfriend, but now he was gone too. How could he just up and leave her after all those years without even a note to explain himself? He'd moved halfway across the world to be with her for Kami's sake! There was no reasonable explanation for it. After six months she declared him insane and vowed never to think of him again.  
  
She broke her vow a minute later and cried herself to sleep.  
  
Now, as the second Christmas without him bore down on her, she felt the familiar sting of tears in her eyes. Not only could she not stop thinking about him, but the thought of her former self kept looming in the back of her mind. She hated who she'd become in this past year; a greedy, conniving, shell of a human being. The trial was January 3rd, in just over a week, and suddenly she couldn't bear the thought of facing those people in court whose lives she was about to ruin. She wanted so badly to just turn back time, or at least turn back into her old self. She was a mother now, she needed to be a good person for Ryoko to look up to. What was she going to think when she grew up and learned about what her mother had done?  
  
Sen shook her head and sighed. She didn't want to think of that. No, that was too far away. She could change by then. The Green Dragon Drama would be over by then. Everything would go back to normal…But everything wouldn't. HE still wasn't around, and never would be again. He was gone for good.  
  
The phone rang in the distance, but she ignored it. They'd hang up eventually. She didn't want to talk to anyone right now.  
  
She slumped over on the couch and stared at the ceiling, forcing her mind to become blank, but the ringing in the background was too much of a distraction. She sighed heavily and went to answer it, wondering absently who would be calling her hotel line.  
  
"Hello?"  
  
"Miss Miyahara?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"This is the manager. There's a woman on the line looking for you. I didn't want to give her your number because you specifically asked me not to. This woman is very adamant about speaking with you."  
  
"What's her name?"  
  
"A Miss Jun Tsuruga. She says you're acquaintances."  
  
Sen rolled her eyes. Acquaintances my ass.  
  
"Should I patch her through?"  
  
"Sure, why not."  
  
"Hello?"  
  
"What do you want Jun? I thought I wasn't going to have to hear from you 'til January."  
  
"Shut up and let me talk. I shouldn't be doing this for you, but I'm not evil like you are. I got a call this afternoon from this guy that said he knew you and wanted to get in touch. I didn't feel comfortable giving out other people's information so I took his down and told him I'd call you…He said he didn't know if you'd talk to him and that you haven't spoken in awhile. He only knew you were in Japan because of the news. I guess Green Dragon is bigger over there than I thought."  
  
"Over where?" Sen hissed in annoyance. She didn't have a clue what she was babbling on about.  
  
"The U.S. That's where he was calling from."  
  
Sen's heart rate jumped thirty beats. No. Impossible.  
  
"What did you say his name was?"  
  
"I didn't…His name is Akio Sugai."  
  
Jun heard a gasp, then a thud and the line went dead. And, even though she hated the woman, she called the hotel just in case she was hurt and left Akio's information with the front desk. With that out of the way, she fixed up her desk and headed home.  
  
"There's my good deed for the day."  
  
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
---Chapter 26! :D I know this chapter was short, but I wanted it out. I didn't want to add too much more, so it is the way it is :P LOL! If that means anything at all…I got a lot out in it, so I hope you enjoyed it! :P  
  
REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (Reviews=More Chapters)…and pudding!  
  
Next time: Armageddon!…Or some more good clean DBZ fun :P  
  
Note: Pudding not available to be shipped.  
  
Note 2: Next chapter will be much longer. I promise :)  
  
Note 3: Editing later (Jeopardy is on!:D) 


	27. Holidays: Part Two

Last time:  
  
Jun heard a gasp, then a thud and the line went dead. And, even though she hated the woman, she called the hotel just in case she was hurt and left Akio's information with the front desk. With that out of the way, she fixed up her desk and headed home.  
  
"There's my good deed for the day."  
  
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
Vegeta cringed inwardly as Bulma shot an icy glare his way, then turned back to 18 who was still talking. He knew exactly what she was telling her, and that if she ever spoke to him again it would be a miracle, and it would not be pretty. And, suddenly, as the weight of the situation bore down on him, he realized he wouldn't like it at all if Bulma didn't talk to him anymore. After only three months of knowing her, he felt he'd known her all his life and couldn't think of not having her around. It was like not having 18 around. Impossible.  
  
He wanted to go over and fix everything, tell her that he'd break his promise to Jun and still see her, but he knew it was inconceivable even before the thought was finished. They'd kill him; roast him alive in front of the world. He'd be done for, washed up, his career that he'd worked so hard for would be over. All those long hours in the makeshift studio would be in vein. Their talents would go unheard and unrewarded. They'd be nobodies in less than a month. Everyone would hate them. Everyone would hate him. He would hate him.  
  
But he still wanted her!  
  
"No you don't," he thought angrily. "She was a toy. You can have all the toys you want when this charade is over. Just pretend she's like 18."  
  
He closed his eyes and forced that frame of mind.  
  
When he opened them they landed directly on Bulma, whose back was turned, and he sighed painfully.  
  
"Kami is punishing me," he muttered.  
  
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
Sen scrambled to her feet and grabbed the phone, cursing loudly when all she heard was a dial tone.  
  
"Kuso," she hissed, dialing the front desk. She had to get in touch with the manager.  
  
"Hello? Front desk. How may I help you?"  
  
"Hi, this is Sen Miyahara, in room 128. Is there a message for me?"  
  
"One moment."  
  
The silence was deafening, and in a few moments she knew she'd learn it was all an illusion, like so many other times. Jun would pay for this. No one toyed with her heart and got away with it.  
  
"Yes, there's a message the manager left for you."  
  
"Thank you." Hastily she grabbed a pen, ready to right on her arm.  
  
"The message reads: Miss Miyahara, call Akio Sugai at 213-436-6642. His address is 2128 Harper Drive, Bennington, Maine 33451."  
  
"Th-thank you," Sen said hoarsely, and hung up the phone. "He has a house?" she whispered, staring at the address on her arm. Suddenly all the questions that she'd forced from her mind came flooding back. Does he have a girlfriend? A wife? Other children? A family? A little green mailbox with 'Sugai' in white letters on the side?  
  
She collapsed on the floor by the phone, completely confused and unsure what to do next. Half of her wanted to forget the whole ordeal and go about her life like normal, and the other half wanted to grab the phone, call America, and beg him to fly to Japan on the next available flight. But even if he did come back, even if she saw him walk through the door and could touch his face again, she couldn't convince herself that she'd actually WANT him back. Of course she still loved him and prayed that he'd come back everyday, but, faced with the real situation, she found herself trapped and having trouble breathing.  
  
So, she did the first thing that came to her mind.  
  
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
Bulma tried to keep her eyes on 18 as she talked, but they kept drifting towards Vegeta, who sat alone and frustrated-looking in the corner. They weren't talking about how Vegeta agreed to not see her anymore, but the words were still fresh in her mind, and they stung.  
  
"Jun told him to stop having flings with everything that walks," 18 had said. "And to stop seeing you."  
  
Her heart dropped through the floor at the sound of those words.  
  
"And he agreed to it?"  
  
All 18 could manage to do was nod, and then she'd changed the subject, and was now talking about Sen and all the trouble she was causing for them. Bulma really wasn't listening—her head was swimming—but she tried her best to look interested.  
  
This was made more difficult, however, by the fact that Vegeta's cell phone just rang and he was now talking to someone. His eyebrows were knitted and he didn't say a word until he said bye to the person. A moment later he stood and advanced in their direction, and Bulma felt an uncontrollable need to escape.  
  
"18," he said in a low voice as he came up beside her.  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Sen just called me."  
  
"What?" she sighed, aggravated. "What the hell did she want?"  
  
Vegeta eyed Bulma for a split second, then tugged on 18's arm and led her several feet away—out of hearing range. When 18 returned five minutes later she looked completely bewildered.  
  
"What?" Bulma asked, when she didn't say anything. Vegeta had returned to his seat across the room.  
  
"I…I think she might drop the case."  
  
"Really? That's great news!"  
  
"Yeah, I know, but…er…she wants Vegeta to fly her back to America on the 26th."  
  
"What!?" It came out louder than she intended it to.  
  
"She has this old lover who I guess is her daughter's father, but she hasn't talked to him in a year and doesn't know if she can face him alone."  
  
"And she thinks Vegeta can offer moral support?"  
  
"She knows he has to…She said she'd drop the suit if he did."  
  
"Did he agree to it?" Strangely, she wished he hadn't. What if they got back together!? She couldn't bare the thought.  
  
"He didn't want to—" Bulma felt her heart soar. "—but I made him. If this little thing can end the case then there's no reason for him to not do it…I told him to tell her that she has to call the newspapers and such and tell them the case was a big misunderstanding. I think she'll agree to it."  
  
"She's a whore," Bulma blurted out before she could stop herself, and downed the contents of the glass she'd been holding and hadn't drunk yet. The rush of fluid in her mouth and the malty taste of eggnog flooded her senses for a moment and she relaxed. "I'm going to have a word with 17. I'll be back in a minute."  
  
She was out of sight before 18 could stop her.  
  
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
"So," Bulma said, as she stepped into the indoor garden in the back of her house, a refilled glass of eggnog in her hands. When she'd asked around moments ago if anyone had seen 17, Krillin said that he mentioned the garden to him and 17 looked interested. He suggested she look there. "What're you doing out here all alone?"  
  
"Hey," 17 said, a half-laugh behind his voice. He hadn't expected anyone to come looking for him. "Just thinking. It's amazing that you can have summer in the middle of winter. Your father is truly a genius. I'm still afraid to talk to him."  
  
"Really?" She took a seat on the stone bench beside him and offered him her eggnog. He declined. "I'd be happy to introduce you. He only appears intimidating. Really he loves meeting new people and having a good time just like any normal person."  
  
"Just any normal person that owns the most powerful and successful technology business in the world."  
  
"Oh come on. Everyone is human. And I'm going to introduce you to him sometime tonight. He told me awhile back that he wants to meet all of you guys. He's seen you, of course, but he said he never talked to any of you except for Vegeta."  
  
"Vegeta talked to him?" 17 was more than surprised.  
  
"Yeah. He came by a while back and I gave him a tour of Capsule Corp. My dad was working on a project in his lab when we came in. They talked for quite awhile before I could butt in."  
  
"I can't imagine Vegeta having a conversation with Dr. Briefs."  
  
"Yeah," she laughed. "It was hard to believe listening to them. Vegeta kept asking him all these technology questions. My dad offered to teach him the basics, but they never talked any further about it. And now that he's agreed to stay away from me, I guess he won't learn what he wanted…Oh well. Pipe dream anyway."  
  
"I'm really sorry about that," 17 said, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. Amazingly, she didn't feel the chill of a sexual attraction the way she had with him before. The sincere smile on his face told her he didn't either. "I couldn't believe Jun said that to him and that he'd agree to it. Usually he flips her off and storms out of the room and never does what she says. But I think this time he knows the only way he can make up for what he's done in the past is to agree to whatever Jun says right now…no matter how much he doesn't want to do it."  
  
"I don't believe that," Bulma said, a bit too harshly. "He doesn't care what happens with us either way. If he wanted me so badly he wouldn't listen to a word anyone said…I don't care anyway though now. I tried to see the good in him, tried to convince myself I was attracted to more than his face and body, but I can't. I was kidding myself. I was only lusting after him. There were no other feelings there."  
  
She paused and sighed, and both knew that her speech had been a desperate fabrication of lies. She liked him more than she knew.  
  
"He protested, you know. When Jun wanted him to stop seeing you he said, 'I refuse.'"  
  
"Yeah, but then he agreed right after. 17, just stop defending him. I don't have the patience right now to deal with it, ok? I don't want to talk about Vegeta anymore. Tonight's just been…tiring."  
  
"Alright then. I guessed that's not why you came out here anyway."  
  
"Damn right it wasn't." She forced a laugh. "I need you to tell me something."  
  
"Alright." He suddenly felt uneasy.  
  
"Do you like Maris?"  
  
He sighed and nodded. He knew that's what was coming. He knew everyone was talking about it behind his back, wondering why he didn't just ask her out and get it over with. And he also knew that the reasons we complicated, that no one would understand, because they could never know the whole story. Maris's story. He knew for a fact that none of her new friends knew about her first love, the love of her life. Kami, how he wanted to be that for her!  
  
"Then stop dawdling and ask her out. We're all getting impatient."  
  
"It's not that simple," he found himself saying without even thinking the words.  
  
"How?…Look, if you're worried about the long distance thing then you can march into the living room right now and ask her, because, even though I've only known her as long as I've known you guys, I know she's an amazing and trustworthy person. You have nothing to worry about with her. She'll make you happy."  
  
"It's not just that," he sighed. Damn it, 17! Shut up before you spill everything!  
  
"What else?"  
  
He didn't answer.  
  
"Are you afraid she doesn't like you as much as you like her?"  
  
Oddly enough, she'd nearly got it.  
  
"If that's the case, then you don't need to worry. Even if she didn't like you exactly as much, there's time for it to grow within a relationship."  
  
17's demeanor softened. She was right, but he didn't know if he could go into a relationship with someone who didn't feel the same. Especially since he felt so foolish about it all. He'd known her for three months and he knew—without a doubt—that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. He was in love. And whatever feelings he'd had for Bulma in the past were now only feelings of friendship. He'd been too scared to love anyone as strongly as he now knew he loved Maris, and so he'd forced himself to think he liked Bulma as more than friends. In the end he couldn't fool himself any longer.  
  
"I don't know if I can do that," he finally said after a long pause. Beside him Bulma sighed. She had a feeling he was going to say that.  
  
"I understand…Just know this. Maris is literally going crazy. The other day she just exploded and started yelling about how you haven't made any moves and she can't wait any longer…She really likes you 17. Some of the most sought after guys in our school asked her out and she turned them down because she only wants you."  
  
"I can't talk to her about this, Bulma. I want to—believe me—but I can't. Can we please not talk about it anymore?"  
  
"Sure," she said, giving him a friendly kiss on the forehead. "Just remember that you can call me any time if you do want to talk. I'm here."  
  
"I know…" he sighed. "Thanks…"  
  
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
After Bulma left the room to find 17, 18 decided she should call Jun and tell her what was going on. She told Krillin she'd be right back, gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, then disappeared into the kitchen for some silence. When Jun picked up she was not at all pleased by the hour. It was nearly 1:00 am.  
  
"Sorry," 18 laughed, unable to control herself. "I didn't realize the time."  
  
"This better be good, 18."  
  
"It is, don't worry."  
  
She told her all she knew about the Sen/former lover thing and waited for a cry of outrage. She was met with silence and then laughter.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Akio, her lover, called me first."  
  
18 didn't understand. What? She knew this guy?  
  
"He saw her on the news and figured I'd know how to reach her since I'm associated with Green Dragon. Apparently he has several good contacts here in Japan to get my number…Anyway, he asked about Sen and I called her and told her about it. I figured its Christmas, what the hell. And maybe some good could come from it…And I was right. Thank Kami you're levelheaded 18, otherwise we'd still have to battle that bitch in court."  
  
"I don't know about him going with her though, now that I think about it. I don't trust them together. What if they sleep together again and Sen gets pissed for a whole knew reason. She might not drop the case after all."  
  
"Have her sign a contract then. If he does this for her, she's never to contact any of us again. Simple."  
  
18 groaned and shifted uncomfortably.  
  
"You're worried about your new friend, aren't you?" Jun asked, sensing her discomfort. "Well forget about her if you want to make it in this world. She'll bring you all down. She's trouble. Don't mess with Capsule Corp. They're giants. They'll kill us."  
  
"Stop worrying about your own ass and think of someone else for a change!" 18 snapped before she could stop herself. She was suddenly very angry. Usually her and Jun got along fine. She was a nice person if you got to know her; just rough around the edges and extremely hostile in situations she was backed into. This time, however, 18 knew she only had her own interests in mind. If Green Dragon fell, she fell too. "Bulma is a great person and if you stopped to realize that our lives effect other people's lives too you'd understand what I mean. She deserves happiness just as much as you do and if she finds that in Vegeta then let her! Don't tell him who he can and cannot see! If our fans want us they'll want us for our music, not our personal lives. Do they like us any less now because me and Goku are in relationships? No. If anything they're hungry for more information and they can't wait for our new CD and tour! So stop being a selfish bitch and open your eyes!"  
  
"18, you're lucky it's Christmas, because what you just said to me—"  
  
"Don't you dare start with that. I've known you too long. I'm not going to cower down to you. I know you need us just as much as we need you, and we'll do whatever we damn well please. I'm telling Vegeta he can see Bulma and if you try to stop him, I'll convince the others to leave you with me…and I don't think they'll need much convincing, Boss."  
  
There was silence on the other end of the line.  
  
"Did I make myself clear?"  
  
"You're ballsy, 18. I'll give you that…I hope you know how much danger you're putting yourself in for that womanizer."  
  
"I have faith in him. He's only human, Jun, which is a hell of a lot more than I can say for you right now."  
  
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
Sen paced the international airport's lobby, Ryoko balanced on her hip, sucking happily from her sippy cup. In twenty minutes her flight was scheduled to take off and Vegeta was nowhere in sight. Last night he'd confirmed he was definitely going to accompany her, but she hadn't heard anything since. Would he ditch her? Would she really have to go through with the trial now? She prayed to Kami that she wouldn't. She was sick of her new life. She wanted her old life back, for good.  
  
Another few minutes, and she was going to hail a cab and go right back to her hotel room.  
  
Luckily though, Vegeta walked through the automatic glass doors moments later. She smiled broadly and waved him over, her smile fading when she realized he was not alone.  
  
"What're they doing here?" she asked, trying to keep the demeanor he knew so well.  
  
"Sign it," Vegeta said, shoving some legal documents at her. She skimmed the front page and nodded.  
  
"Fine. Hold Ryoko for a minute."  
  
Bulma flinched when Vegeta reached out and grabbed the child, holding her to him as if she were his own. He's not a father, she told herself, trying not to stare. 18, who stood beside her, gave her a soft jab in the ribs and smiled when she looked over.  
  
"It's fine," she assured her, nodding towards Vegeta and Sen. "He hates that woman."  
  
"I know, its just…look at how he's holding her. It's like he really is her father. It's so natural."  
  
"Is that really a bad thing?" 18 asked, winking. Bulma knew what she meant in a second and rolled her eyes. She wasn't even thinking THAT far into the future.  
  
A few moments later Vegeta returned Ryoko to Sen's arms and came back over to give 18 the papers. He did not look at all pleased, especially when 18 snagged him for a hug and a quick kiss on the cheek.  
  
"She's evil," she whispered in his ear, receiving a groan and a light shove as a response.  
  
When she released him, his eyes immediately fell on Bulma and he fought the urge to wrapped his arms around her and kiss her. They stood there for a moment, looking at each other awkwardly, until Bulma made the move and enveloped him in a hug. Twenty feet away Sen eyed them, and Bulma swallowed a hard lump in her throat and kissed him. Instinctively he wrapped his arms around her tiny waist and deepened the kiss. When they pulled away, Vegeta couldn't imagine getting on that plane with anyone but Bulma.  
  
And then he turned and left.  
  
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
---Chapter 27!…Hmm…So, no more lawsuit, yay! I'm proud of some of you for figuring out what I was going to do with Sen and that guy :P Let's just see how well that works out, shall we?…I wonder what happened to Yamcha, he's been gone for awhile. I should probably bring him back, huh? Yeah, if I remember, lol :P He's not important.  
  
REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (Reviews=More Chapters)…and I can sleep better at night.  
  
Next time: America…and a New Year's Eve party, woo!!  
  
Note: Bulma and Vegeta are NOT together YET. I'm warming you up, slowly. LOL! I know, I'm taking forever, but that's the kind of stuff I like to read, so I write that way. You people are lucky I'm so dedicated to you! :P  
  
Note 2: A lot of you have mentioned the fact that I make Vegeta into a man whore all the time. I'm not denying it, lol, but I just think that's how he would be if he was a normal person. Instead of killing people left and right, he ruins people's lives in other ways. I don't know why I like him this way, but I just do. I guess it makes for a better ending when he throws his old way of life away and only wants Bulma…you know?  
  
P.S.: I'll be busy for the next few days, so the next chapter might take some time. Maybe even a week, but I'll try my hardest to find some time to write. In the meantime—hang in there! :P 


	28. Airport Blues

Last time:  
  
When she released him, his eyes immediately fell on Bulma and he fought the urge to wrapped his arms around her and kiss her. They stood there for a moment, looking at each other awkwardly, until Bulma made the move and enveloped him in a hug. Twenty feet away Sen eyed them, and Bulma swallowed a hard lump in her throat and kissed him. Instinctively he wrapped his arms around her tiny waist and deepened the kiss. When they pulled away, Vegeta couldn't imagine getting on that plane with anyone but Bulma.  
  
And then he turned and left.  
  
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
"What do you see in her anyway?" Sen asked, shooing the stewardess away who was trying to offer her peanuts. It was the first thing she'd said to him since boarding the plane; he knew exactly what she meant.  
  
"What's it matter to you?" Vegeta retorted, grabbing several bags of peanuts. He tore a package open immediately and crammed a hand full in his mouth, causing Sen to cringe. He smiled inwardly; that's exactly the reaction he was hoping for.  
  
"I'm just curious is all. When I see you in the tabloids, you're always with some blonde with a boob-job whose wearing a dress two sizes too small. Bulma Briefs is THE definition of a geek. Her clothes, her hair—ick! Only thing missing is the glasses."  
  
"So she's not shallow. She's still hot."  
  
"She could be," Sen said, making a gesture with her hand. "She's just so…blah. I don't know how you can stand it. 18 I can see you with, with her badass persona. But Bulma? No. I think you need to rethink that one…Besides, the press are having a field day with you two. Her father's probably having a heart attack over it. Seeing his precious genius with someone like you. Poor guy."  
  
"I've talked to the guy," Vegeta said, not knowing why he was telling her this. "And I think it's time you shut up. Talking to you wasn't part of the deal."  
  
Before she could say another word, he pulled on his headphones and closed his eyes.  
  
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
Vegeta waited as patiently as he could for Sen to buckle Ryoko into her car seat, and was ready to snap some cutting remark, when he heard the driver's side door close and the car start. Since they'd flown into Maine, they had to rent a car, and Sen would find her own way back to Las Vegas after her little episode was over. From here on out all Vegeta had to do was sit or stand next to her, and maybe hold Ryoko every so often. He was on the next flight back to Japan, if only Sen would hurry up and pull out of the parking garage.  
  
"What the hell could you possibly be waiting for?" Vegeta groaned. He chanced a glance in her direction, thanking Kami that she wasn't looking at him. Good, she had other things on her mind besides trying to mess with his head.  
  
"You've obviously never been in love," Sen said, her eyes fixed on the steering wheel. "Not that I'm surprised. You don't keep girls around long enough to develop any emotions what so ever."  
  
Vegeta frowned and turned towards her, thrown off a bit by her behavior. She actually, genuinely, sounded upset, like a normal person.  
  
"Just tell me what your problem is. The sooner we get this done, the sooner I can get home."  
  
"Yeah," Sen sighed angrily. "And the sooner you can fuck up Bulma's life, just like all those other girls."  
  
"What's that matter to you? You hate Bulma. And besides, you've done the same to me for the past year."  
  
"Wow. Didn't think you'd ever figure out the connection. But, here we are, last day we're going to ever see each other and you suddenly see the big picture."  
  
"Stop babbling."  
  
"You still don't see." She shook her head, almost sadly. "Yes I wanted to make the pain of my loss go away by latching onto someone new, but there were other reasons why you were the perfect candidate. Don't you think I eyed hundreds of guys before coming over to you? I recognized you from all the billboards and commercials and newspaper articles talking about how you screwed and dumped yet another helpless groupie." Vegeta's eyes narrowed. He didn't like where this conversation was going. "I picked you because I knew I couldn't be guilty about screwing with your life. You deserved it, and who better than someone who'd been dealt the same hand as the girls you messed up?…I didn't plan on getting so involved or taking it so far…or that I'd actually feel bad once I realized I wasn't only hurting you…but I did choose you on purpose and I'm not sorry about that."  
  
Vegeta's hand suddenly lashed out and grabbed the steering wheel. Sen jumped back, her eyes wide with fear. He'd never—in all the time they'd known and hated each other—done something even close to that.  
  
"Pull out of the damn parking lot. Now," he hissed, locking her eyes.  
  
"What's wrong Vegeta?" Any fear she'd had before was completely dissipated now. "You little puppets aren't enough for you anymore? You need to get violent now to feel that raw animal emotion?" Vegeta slowly eased his hand off the steering wheel and sat back. "I hope you make yourself feel really big too, 'cause you're going to need something to keep from being someone's bitch when you finally end up in jail. My best guess is domestic dispute turned ugly. No wonder you look so good in a wife-beater."  
  
"I loathe you," was all he could manage to say. But inside he'd felt the full weight of what she'd said—it hit a major cord he never even knew existed.  
  
"I hope for Bulma's sake she gets away from you before you have a chance to do some real damage." She sighed deeply and turned to him. "Vegeta, listen." Her voice was calmer now, sincere. "I know everyone says this, but only because it's so true—a woman's heart is THE worst place to hurt her…Believe me, I know."  
  
"What happened with your man anyway?" Vegeta found himself saying, and was surprised further when he actually wanted to know.  
  
"Akio," she said, swallowing a lump in her throat, "left me out of the blue. No sign. No note. Nothing. He left town to escape me and gave no explanation. He broke my heart in the worst of ways and I have to look at my daughter everyday and see him in her." She fought to keep her tears at bay. "And now he's calling me for some reason and I don't have a clue of how I'm going to face him. He ruined my life in one moment and I'm actually going to go and see what he wants…Kami, I hate my stupid heart…"  
  
"I—" He began, but stopped short. Did he really want to say it? He instinctively thought of Bulma and knew he had to. "I won't let him hurt you."  
  
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
For four hours Sen and Vegeta sat outside Akio Sugai's house, the car off and in total silence. Early on Sen had tried to engage Vegeta in conversation—mainly to ask what he meant by his comment at the parking garage—but getting answers out of him soon proved impossible. Every so often he'd tell her to go up to the house, but stopped after the twelfth time.  
  
"Fine then," he said, reaching for the door handle. "If you're not going in, I am. And you probably won't like the results."  
  
"Vegeta, no!" Sen yelled, grabbing his arm and simultaneously waking Ryoko. Inside Akio's house a light went on, and Sen went stiff. "Kuso!" she said in a low voice. "Now look what you did."  
  
She climbed out of the car and opened the back door to try to calm Ryoko back to sleep. And, in her haste to keep her daughter from crying any louder, Sen failed to hear the front door of the house open and close, and the soft footsteps that followed.  
  
"Is there a problem, miss?" came a deep voice, filled with concern.  
  
Vegeta immediately stepped out of the car and came around to help Sen with Ryoko.  
  
"She's fine," Vegeta answered for her, eyeing the man almost suspiciously. So this was the guy who topped him at his game. He didn't like the vibes he was giving off.  
  
Sen still hadn't turned around, but was shaking as she continued to tend to her daughter.  
  
"You look familiar," the man said, wrinkling his brow.  
  
"I should," Vegeta snapped.  
  
"Green Dragon." His eyes widened in realization and he took a few steps back. "S-S-Sen?"  
  
Slowly, with Ryoko securely in her arms, she turned around and looked into his eyes for the first time in over a year. If the car hadn't been right behind her, she would have fallen over.  
  
"Akio," she forced out, determined to keep a straight face. The face she'd been forced to wear ever since he'd left her. "Long time."  
  
"I-I don't know what to say…It's so great to see you."  
  
"Great?" she asked, keeping her voice expertly calm. Oh how badly she wanted to wring his neck. But at the same time, she could think of nothing other than jumping into his arms and being whisked into his quiet country house. "Or surprised?"  
  
"I had a feeling you'd come instead of call."  
  
"I'm thinking now that I shouldn't have done either, but I suppose you do have a right to see your daughter."  
  
"M-M-M…My daughter?" His eyes immediately fell on Ryoko, who was quiet now, and looking with curious eyes at Akio. "I thought she was his daughter." Vegeta tensed.  
  
"Turns out I'm not the only guy in the world who ditches girls and ruins there lives."  
  
"No Akio, she's your daughter. Take a guess when I found out I was pregnant?"  
  
"Oh Kami," he groaned, hanging his head. "Sen I…I know I shouldn't even being thinking this, but is there any way you'd let me try to explain?"  
  
Both Sen and Vegeta burst into bitter peals of laughter. Even the tiny Ryoko giggled in her mother's arms.  
  
"I think I figured out the message myself. Disappearing off the face of the earth is a pretty good sign you don't want me anymore. Or is it that you found someone else and weren't man enough to come forward? Is she in your picture perfect little house right now, waiting for you to come back to bed? Is she wearing that special lingerie you bought her for your anniversary? Huh!? Answer me!"  
  
"You—and only you—have always been the only girl for me…Since I…left, I haven't even looked at another girl."  
  
"I find that pretty hard to believe." She briskly turned away and set Ryoko back in her car seat. When she turned back around her eyes were no less fiery and her voice was no less icy. "I knew this was a horrible idea. I never should have come here. I don't know what I was thinking…Somewhere along the line I changed from the person I was when I was with you, and I don't see myself ever changing back. You fucked with my life, Akio, and there's no forgiving that." She climbed back into the front seat and started the engine. "I just wish you hadn't been so wonderful in the beginning. Then maybe I could have seen this coming. And to think," she laughed, "I actually thought I'd marry you. Funny how soon things can change."  
  
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
18 gasped in disbelief. It took all of Bulma's strength to keep her in place. Carefully, so not to alarm her, she placed a hand over 18's mouth and whispered for her to stay quiet. In the driver's seat, 18 relaxed and eased back, waiting patiently for Bulma to remove her hand.  
  
"You know we can't just do things without thinking about it first," Bulma practically scolded. "I only came with you because you told me you need me to hold you back incase things didn't go well. Well, things aren't going well and I'm just as mad about it as you are, but we need to keep our heads."  
  
"I know," 18 sighed, ashamed. She thanked herself silently for forcing Bulma to come along.  
  
A long silence passed, allowing Bulma to collect her thoughts. They needed to act, and quickly. But what to do and how to go about doing it were factors of the equation she didn't have. Furthermore, they needed to be stealthy. If they were seen at the wrong time, everything would be compromised and their lives would soon follow.  
  
Bulma frowned and tightened her fists. Nothing irritated her more than not being able to solve a problem. If she were in her lab, she'd work tirelessly until the problem was solved. Eating and sleeping didn't come into play. But unfortunately, her lab was a luxury she didn't have, and therefore the problem would have to be solved the difficult way. Complete brainpower.  
  
After several minutes, the light bulb finally went off and Bulma laid out her plan for 18. It was a long shot, but if it worked, everyone would end up on top.  
  
"But that means Sen wins, too." 18 scowled in the semi-darkness.  
  
"I know," Bulma sighed, glancing at Akio Sugai as he finally hung his head and went back inside. "But I don't see how we can fix this if we don't do it. It's the only option. I just hope we can contact Jun in time to stall Sen for the trial, if we don't stop them in time."  
  
"You're ballsy Bulma Briefs," 18 laughed, climbing out of the rented car and heading toward Akio's house. "I just hope your brain doesn't get us in anymore trouble."  
  
Bulma smiled sheepishly at the remark, thinking back on how they got on the flight to the United States and almost ended up in jail.  
  
"Oh come on," she said, following 18's lead. "At least we're here, AND we'll have a great story to tell everyone when we get back."  
  
"IF we get back."  
  
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
Sen swerved down the back roads of Bennington, Maine, her vision blurred with tears. With a little coaxing, and a handful of tissues, she slowed down and parked on the curb. In the backseat Ryoko wailed wildly, her small chubby arms stretched out in need of comfort.  
  
Vegeta sighed angrily and climbed into the back to tend to the child, all the while knowing he could have avoided this mess if he'd simply listened to Jun and the others. He also knew, however, that he never would have allowed himself to do that even if he'd known this was going to happen.  
  
He leaned back in the spacious backseat and cradled Ryoko to sleep, knowing he would end up screwing his life up another way tomorrow.  
  
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
Akio stared at his strange houseguests in disbelief. First at their story and the fact that they knew so much about him, and second that he knew exactly who both of them were. Even in America he couldn't escape the Japanese.  
  
The tea he'd prepared was now stone cold on the coffee table, completely untouched. The room held an urgency that couldn't be ignored, and Akio found himself reaching for his shoes he always kept under the table. Wide grins spread across the two celebrities' faces, and they hurried him out the front door.  
  
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
All over Bennington, respectable women prepared themselves to go out at the ungodly hour of 11:00 pm on a work-night. Each prided themselves in being the best of the best, the great workaholics of their little city, always to bed early with their work done and up just as early for the next full day of stress and twenty-second coffee breaks.  
  
But tonight was different, and as they finished pinning their hair and slipping on their shoes, they couldn't think of a better reason to ditch the rules.  
  
Akio Sugai. The single most sought after bachelor in all of Maine. He needed their help, and they needed an excuse to see him, for at work he was a shadow, a wind that raced through the cubicles and offices, a voice over the telephone asking for a fax or serial code. He was their boss, flown in from New York City, and the most compassionate man anyone had ever met. Even if none of them stood a chance with him, they still aimed to please—even if that meant missing their beauty sleep.  
  
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
Bennington was located just outside Augusta, Maine's capital, and it was only a short drive to the closest airport. Sen and Vegeta were making good time. If they arrived before midnight, they could make a flight to Japan and be in before midnight, what with all the time zone crossing. Neither felt much like flying after a day of letdowns, but it was either that, or spend the night in Maine, which was the farthest thing from both their minds. They were appropriately sick of one another and couldn't wait to get the trial over and done with, and back to their normal lives.  
  
"How long will it take to get tickets and all that?" Sen asked, now seated on the passenger's side. Vegeta had insisted on driving so they could make the flight.  
  
"The sooner the better," was all he said, and focused on the road before him.  
  
Ten minutes later they were in the airport they started in, the car was returned, and they were in line to buy their tickets. And ten yards away, Bulma, 18, Akio, and a troop of sophisticated women entered the airport lobby and spotted their targets, just before they reached the ticket desk.  
  
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
Vegeta had to rub his eyes to make sure he was seeing right. He'd glanced over his shoulder, hearing several loud gasps behind him, completely unprepared for what his eyes were telling him he was seeing. Bulma and 18 were running towards him, waving their arms, and shouting something inaudible. Behind them was Sen's ex, Akio Sugai, and several important-looking women he'd never seen before. But, what startled him the most, was that while these women were beyond attractive, and their outfits screamed "grab me", he found his eyes glued to Bulma in her torn jeans and Capsule Corp. tee-shirt.  
  
"What in Kami's name—" he started, but the words fell flat as Bulma rushed to him and grabbed his upper arms, as if his attention weren't already fully hers.  
  
"Vegeta! Thank Kami we caught you in time!" she gasped, her breathing labored. She took a moment to calm herself, then continued. "We'll explain everything later, but right now we need to get Sen and Akio back together."  
  
"So what are those whores for?" Sen snapped, eyeing the women. Each gave her own sign of disapproval for the mother carrying her daughter, but said nothing. They were professional women, not angry teenagers fighting over the star quarterback.  
  
"They work for Akio," Bulma said, keeping her voice surprisingly calm. Vegeta was quietly astonished. He knew her well enough to know that people like Sen were not to be tolerated. Her display of maturity and measured tone was commendable, and so Vegeta stayed silent and allowed her to work her magic. "They all want to date him, but—"  
  
"But he's playing the field, I got it," Sen butted in. She glared at Bulma, then looked at the towering clock in the center of the lobby. "Look girlie, we only have fifteen minutes to get on that plane, and I'm not about to miss it so I can stand here and listen to their sob stories."  
  
"Would you shut up and listen!" one of the women suddenly yelled, startling everyone. She was the only redhead in the group. "We're trying to help you and Akio settle your differences, Kami!"  
  
Sen adjusted Ryoko on her hip and turned her attention back to Bulma.  
  
"He turned them all down, Sen," Bulma said, motioning towards Akio, who'd been standing back from the rest of the group. He looked up shyly, then away again. "He told them he wasn't looking for a girlfriend, because he couldn't bear to be with anyone but you."  
  
"Wow, really?" Sen asked mockingly. "That explains why he ditched me without so much as a note to explain himself. And then he just happens to realize his mistake after I'm on the news. Funny coincidence."  
  
"I realized the second I got on the plane that I'd made a mistake, but it was too late," Akio said softly. "By then my tracks couldn't be covered and you would have found out and left me. I couldn't face you after what I'd done, so I continued to cower away…As I said before, I never even looked at another woman since I left."  
  
"It's true," one of the blonde's said. "I've never been turned down by a guy, especially a co-worker, so when Akio said no because he loved someone else, I knew he was telling the truth."  
  
"Yeah," the redhead added, "same with me. He truly loves you. On the rare occasions when I actual saw him at work, he couldn't hide his pain. I asked him what was wrong and he told me his story…He left you because he was scared he would ruin everything in the future, that you'd find out something you didn't like about his past and leave him."  
  
"Kill or be killed," Sen sighed. "But you aren't making sense. What could I possibly find out that would make me want to leave him?"  
  
"I've been in jail," Akio sighed, looking at the floor. "Back in Japan. When I met you I never dreamed you'd be THE girl, and so I never mentioned it…That, and I have a kid…Well, another kid."  
  
Sen's heart dropped through the floor.  
  
"J-Jail?" she stuttered. "For what?"  
  
"Meiji's mother—he's my son—she and I were going to split and were fighting over custody of Meiji…One night she got drunk and came after me with a knife, screaming at me for trying to steal her baby…I was only trying to stop her from hurting us both, but we fell onto the glass coffee table and when I stood up, she didn't…"  
  
Sen gasped aloud and covered her mouth. Akio didn't need to continue, but there was one last thing she needed to know.  
  
"Wh-Where is your son now?"  
  
"Japan," Akio sighed. "He had to be put up for adoption when I was arrested, because neither of us had any living relatives…He'd be seven now…Someone you all know took him in…Jun Tsuruga."  
  
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
---Chapter 28!…Wow! That story just took a weird turn :P I'm still playing with the idea, but I think its alright. If I don't like it later I'll change it, or if none of you like it…It just came to me as I was typing, so I didn't plan it. I don't know how it'll work out, but I'm hoping you like it :D crosses fingers Please, oh please!  
  
REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (Reviews=More Chapters)…you know the drill…  
  
Next time: The party, I swear! :P…And how the hell does Green Dragon not know about Meiji!?  
  
Note: I know it's taking me awhile to get somewhere, but I'm getting there. I need substance, and by the next chapter Sen will be only an afterthought. She's gone! Outta here! Poof! :P 


	29. Happy New Year!

ATTENTION!! There will be a lemon in this chapter! WARNING! :P  
  
(I don't know the rules anymore about ratings, lol. People have told me different things, so I'm going to post this chapter as is and change it later if I need to.)  
  
ENJOY :D  
  
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
Last time:  
  
"Wh-Where is your son now?"  
  
"Japan," Akio sighed. "He had to be put up for adoption when I was arrested, because neither of us had any living relatives…He'd be seven now…Someone you all know took him in…Jun Tsuruga."  
  
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
The plane ride back to Japan was interesting, to say the least. Bulma and 18 sat together, talking quietly to each other about the situation, while Vegeta sat across the aisle, staring out the window, and intent on ignoring them. He still couldn't believe they followed him to make sure he didn't screw up, though they claimed they only wanted to help. He was eighteen years old for Kami's sake, not a child. He didn't need babysitters.  
  
Several rows ahead of the trio, sat Akio Sugai, Sen Miyahara, and the sleeping Ryoko. They were in deep conversation, discussing their lives over the past year they'd been apart, and generally making Vegeta sick to his stomach. He didn't understand what a woman like her saw in a guy like him, or vice versa. Of course, if it were up to him only certain people would be allowed to breed.  
  
Twenty minutes before, it seemed as though Sen wanted nothing to do with Akio and was ready to board the plane. But only seconds before she and Vegeta were about to leave to board the place, Sen suddenly turned and ran towards Akio, who was about to leave. She slapped him loudly across the face and told him if he didn't get on the plane with her she would never speak to him again.  
  
Now, it was like nothing had happened. As like she hadn't been about to ruin Green Dragon with her little scandal, which was still a hot news topic in Japan. But she promised to fix it and announce it was all a big misunderstanding.  
  
"I still don't understand," Vegeta heard Bulma say to 18. "How can they have a family together? What about his son?"  
  
"I thought that's why they were going back to Japan," 18 said, though equally confused. How could you re-adopt your own child?  
  
"I don't think that's possible though. Once you give up your child, isn't that it?"  
  
"But this is Jun…Kami, that's still weird to say. I can't believe Jun adopted a kid and we didn't know about it."  
  
"She doesn't have to tell us every little thing, you know," Vegeta grunted across the aisle. Both women ignored his rudeness, as well as his comment.  
  
"Well," Bulma sighed, leaning her head back. "I just hope everything works out for the best, for the sake of those kids. I wish there was something I could do, you know, to make sure they were well off. I'd feel like an ass offering them money or something though. It's not like they don't have any."  
  
"I know what you mean. I hate to see kids suffer for stupid things adults do."  
  
"We'll just have to wait and see."  
  
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
It was days before Bulma's big New Year's Eve party, and she hadn't heard a word from Vegeta. She didn't know what to think of him anymore. Ever since the drama with Sen, he hadn't been acting quite the same. And while it still wasn't over—for Jun and Akio were in negotiations of some sort—it felt like it pretty much was. All that anyone associated with Green Dragon could have done, was done. There was nothing left to do but wait.  
  
"Bulma dear," Mrs. Briefs said, bustling into the ballroom, her hair pulled into a ponytail. Bulma blinked twice and narrowed her eyes. Her mother NEVER wore her hair like that. "Oh, don't look at me like that, I've been gardening upstairs all day." And by gardening she meant digging unnecessary holes in the dirt of the indoor outdoor room. "I just came in to see how you were getting along with the decorations. I thought maybe you might need a hand."  
  
"I'm fine mom," she said, tearing off a piece of tape with her teeth. "Just finishing up. All we need now are the buffet tables and some people, and we have a party."  
  
"What about music?"  
  
"Back there," she said, pointing towards the small stage across the room. The red velvet curtains were pulled shut, hiding the myriad of electronics behind it: speakers, a karaoke machine, a turn-table, and much more than was necessary.  
  
"One more thing." Mrs. Briefs reached into her apron pocket and produced a small cordless telephone. "Your boyfriend is on the phone."  
  
Bulma paled and grabbed the phone, covering the mouthpiece. "He's not my boyfriend, mom! Now go bother someone else."  
  
"Fine, fine," the older woman laughed. "But when you're walking down the aisle, and he's standing at the other end—"  
  
"Mother!"  
  
"Alright. Alright. Tell Vegeta I said hello."  
  
"Yeah, got it," she sighed, and waited for her to leave before she put the phone to her ear. "Hello?"  
  
"I'm coming," he said solemnly.  
  
"Well it's not like it's your funeral," Bulma snapped. "You can sound a little more excited than that."  
  
"You're so simple," he muttered.  
  
"What's that supposed to mean?"  
  
"I'm not supposed to see you, genius. Not until this bullshit with Sen blows over. Jun's orders."  
  
"Well—"  
  
"But I'm going, so it better be worth my time."  
  
A sly smile spread across Bulma's features and she nodded to herself. "Don't worry," she said, withholding her excitement. "I promise you'll have a good time."  
  
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
Bulma beamed with pride as the last of the guests arrived. It seemed even more people than she knew were there, laughing, talking, and just enjoying themselves and their last moments of the year. It was only eleven and so the party was just getting started. The big screen TV across the room from the buffet tables was cold; no one was even thinking about watching the ball drop (I don't know Japanese New Year tradition, so deal with it :P).  
  
"Hey, B!" Bulma's smile widened.  
  
"Hey Yamcha." As he reached her, he gave her a friendly kiss on the cheek then stepped respectively back. "Hey Tsu-Tsu. How's paradise?"  
  
Tsuki blushed noticeably, while Yamcha busied himself with his cup of punch.  
  
"Come on! You guys can't leave me in the dark here. I set you up and now I want to know if my meddling paid off. Clearly you can stand each other."  
  
"Of course," Yamcha said, the blush finding its way to his cheeks too. "She…She's amazing."  
  
"And what about you?" Bulma turned her eyes to Tsuki, whose face couldn't have been redder. Instead of giving a generic answer like Bulma expected, she leaned in and whispered in Bulma's ear. The words shocked her momentarily and then she smiled. Yamcha stood dumbfounded, but opted not to ask. "So, have you to jumped each others bones yet?"  
  
"Bulma!" Yamcha snapped, clearly startled. He couldn't remember a time she'd been so forward and vulgar. But, then again, he hadn't seen much of her since he's started dating Tsuki. Who knew what kind of an effect Vegeta was having on her.  
  
"Yes," Tsuki said, unashamed. "We have." Her lips formed a suggestive grin and Bulma figured it from there. It was only recently that they'd ended up in bed together. And it was all too clear that they were hot for each other, even now, standing in such close proximity to someone they both knew so well.  
  
"Well good," Bulma finally said. "I'm happy for you. No use looking as good as you two do and not using your bodies." A flash of Vegeta's flame-like hair caught Bulma's eyes and her voice caught in her throat. Since nine o'clock, when Green Dragon first arrived, she had been wondering when and if Vegeta was coming. Now that he was here, all conversations she'd rehearsed in her head were gone.  
  
He spotted her before she had a chance to react and started towards her.  
  
"I—" she started, but the words wouldn't come and he was there before she could warn Yamcha. Not that Yamcha needed warning, but the thought of her ex-lover and her would-be-lover so near each other gave her chills. She barely squeezed out an apology, then followed Vegeta out of the room, to where the coats were kept, so they could be alone.  
  
One look at his eyes and she knew something wasn't quite right.  
  
"What's wrong? Were the roads bad on the way over?" But from the weather report she'd seen a few hours before, it wasn't due to snow again until after New Year's.  
  
"No," he sighed. He sat down on one of the few chairs in the room and shook his head. "I've been with Jun and Sen, and her ex. They bitched and moaned for the better part of five hours, then there wasn't anything more to argue about and they settled whatever they had to settle. I don't even know why the hell Jun called me there, but I didn't say two words until the end."  
  
"What happened?" was all she could think to say. The situation couldn't be easy on any of them.  
  
"Sen and her lover are happy," he grimaced, "and moving back to Japan."  
  
"What!? Japan! But I thought—"  
  
"Apparently whatever kept them away before isn't as strong as his brat."  
  
Bulma nodded. Of course. Meiji.  
  
"Jun won't give him up though, so they agreed to buy houses next to each other and have some kind of sick family."  
  
"But don't Sen and Jun hate each other? What kind of upbringing are those children going to have? That's a disaster waiting to explode."  
  
"I know," Vegeta muttered. "But that's what they decided. And they say they're good with it."  
  
Bulma was silent for a moment, in which time she arranged a chair opposite Vegeta and took a seat. For a second she wanted nothing more than to reach out and kiss him, but the thought faded as another invaded her mind. "I assume the charges are dropped then. No trial?"  
  
"That's the only good news," he groaned. He looked up at her, his face drawn and unreal. He didn't look like Vegeta in that moment. "Oh yeah. I almost forgot. We're getting a divorce."  
  
Bulma smiled widely and nodded.  
  
"Well, come on." She took his hand and pulled him to his feet. "There's a whole party waiting for you. I'm sure your friends know you're here by now."  
  
"I don't want to go out there."  
  
"You never do," she laughed. "But you're going to. You said you would."  
  
"No," he said, this time his voice carrying another emotion, one Bulma knew well. "Not yet."  
  
He lifted his hand to her face and lightly brushed her cheek with his thumb, the rest of his fingers becoming entangled in her soft aqua locks. He took a step forward and waited. She didn't move. He inched his face closer, then waited again. Again she didn't move.  
  
"Kiss me before I realize who you are," Bulma whispered, her half-joke falling to the floor as passion enveloped them. His lips were sweeter than she remembered, and as he eased her onto the soft carpeting of the coatroom, she couldn't force her brain to come up with a logical reason to keep them from going further.  
  
And so they went further…  
  
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
In Bulma's room, two stores above the festivities, Maris had 17 backed against a wall. She'd had enough. Enough games. Enough wondering. Enough everything.  
  
"I love you, 17," she whispered, and took a step back. What had happened to all those words she'd planned on saying? How she needed an answer from him or she was going to forget about him and start looking for someone else? Or how he wasn't even treating her like a friend, so much as a responsibility? Why had her mouth formed those four words, the words she never knew existed in her mind, until that very moment?  
  
17's eyes widened, then dropped to the floor.  
  
"I'm sorry," she sighed. She took a few more steps back, then decided she better sit on the bed. "I didn't mean to be so…blunt. I had a lot I wanted to say, but…well…I don't know. I'm just sorry."  
  
"Don't be," 17 said, the initial shock wearing off. She loved him?…No. His luck couldn't be that good. "I should be sorry." He walked over and sat beside her, though was not so bold to take her hand.  
  
"You? For what?"  
  
"For not telling you how I felt. For leaving you guessing for so long…I think I knew so much longer than I realized, but everything just got messed up…I love you too."  
  
"But?"  
  
"How did you know there was a but?" He looked directly into her eyes for the first time that night, overly happy that she was daring enough to drag him from the party.  
  
"I'm good like that," she said, her voice heavy with anticipation. "Now get on with it before I corner you again. I obviously can't handle waiting."  
  
"Maris, I…There's so much I want to know about you, and so much that I already do. I've been listening to the others, and it's clear that I'm the only one you told about your…"  
  
"Lover?" Maris offered.  
  
17 blushed.  
  
"It's fine. I think once I realized that I loved you, I was finally over Tobei. I still love him, of course, but it's different. He's gone and I have this perfect opportunity with you, and everything with him is memories. In another time he was the one…And now…you are."  
  
17 tried to speak, but the words stuck to his tongue and he only sighed.  
  
"Now, what did you have to say to me?"  
  
"Maris, how can you be absolutely sure that you're over him? I mean, is six months enough? Are you going to be able to—"  
  
"Love you completely?"  
  
17 nodded and turned his head away.  
  
"Does this answer your question?"  
  
Within seconds they were a tangled mass of limbs on the bed, and it was perfect.  
  
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
Downstairs in the ballroom, Chi-Chi pulled Goku into a corner. Her eyes were wild, but with a new kind of emotion he'd never seen in her before. She was scared.  
  
"Honey, what's wrong?" he whispered, pulling her close. By now his casts were gone and he only limped. Another few weeks and he'd be good as new.  
  
"Goku, I figured now is the best time to tell you." Her voice was shaky, and across the room the big screen TV flickered on. Ten minutes to midnight.  
  
"Tell me what? Are you ill? Do you need to go home?"  
  
"Ill?" she laughed, her eyes cast at the floor. "Something like that."  
  
"Hey! Goku! Chi-Chi!" 18 called, as she advanced towards them, Krillin on her heels. "Ten minutes to the new year. She eyed Goku in mock seduction then turned to Chi-Chi and said, "Wanna trade for the ball dropping?"  
  
Everyone's laughter seemed to ring about the room, though when Goku glanced back over at his girlfriend, he could see she was having a hard time pretending.  
  
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
"Vegeta," Bulma gasped, just barely able to push him back far enough to speak. "Stop for a second." They were stripped to their underwear, though it seemed he was more eager to discard all clothing than he was to listen to her urgent words. "We need a condom. I am NOT going to end up pregnant with the devil."  
  
Vegeta laughed beside the insult and reached across the floor to where his coat lay. He produced several kinds from his pocket and tossed them to Bulma.  
  
"Pick one. I don't suggest the colors though."  
  
"Why?" She eyed a red condom.  
  
"Because, I'm not red or blue or purple. Just pick one."  
  
"Romantic," she murmured, grabbing the first plain one she saw. And, as he tore the package and went to pull off his boxers, the realization of what they were about to do hit full force and Bulma let out a small sound. Not quite a gasp, but enough to draw his attention and halt his actions.  
  
"What now?"  
  
"What's going to happen after this?" she asked, feeling like one of those girls in a cheesy teen movie.  
  
"You won't be able to walk for days and will thank me a hundred times over."  
  
"Shut up and be real for a second. I meant—"  
  
"Oh!" he laughed, sitting on his heels. "You meant US."  
  
"You're brilliant."  
  
"I'll tell you what," he said, eyeing her body hungrily. "We continue—" Bulma frowned. "Wait—We continue, and afterward, if we both think we want to be…"  
  
"A couple."  
  
"Then we decide then. Ok?"  
  
Bulma smirked and started to stand.  
  
"What?"  
  
"No."  
  
"No what?"  
  
"No I won't do it. I'm not a hussy, and I'm certainly not one of your stupid bimbos. You're not going to con be into bed with that talk, so forget it. For a moment I thought you could actually be a good person…I guess I was wrong."  
  
"Wait, ok?" he sighed, and grabbed her forearm. "Come here." He sat on the ground, crossing his legs, and pulled her into his lap.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"You know where I stand on the girlfriend thing."  
  
"Yeah. You think they're useless."  
  
"No, I KNOW they don't work for me. Never did."  
  
"Well, I can see your predicament. Not many women want to be with a man who can't keep his hands off everyone else."  
  
"It's not that…Look. I've been fighting to only be attracted to you ever since your loud mouth walked backstage."  
  
"I'm falling for you already," she mocked, rolling her eyes.  
  
"Listen, Kami," he grumbled. "Ever since then, you've been the only girl I've wanted. I've been to clubs and bars and parties with tons of women half-clothed dancing all around me. And the whole time—" He swallowed hard. "Kuso…I'm terrible at this."  
  
There was a long silence, in which Bulma didn't feel it was appropriate to speak. He wanted to tell her something important, and she wanted to hear it.  
  
"F-For too long I waited to say this," he stammered, the words oddly familiar. "For too long I didn't know. For too long I denied it…I watched you from day to day and I could not say a word. My tongue was stuck, my lips were useless, my throat was dry and aching…"  
  
"But now," Bulma said, knowing what was next. He was quoting Anzai again, only from a much newer text. Well, new to her, "my tongue is free, my lips are alive, and my throat is wet with speech."  
  
She stopped there to let him finish.  
  
"I find the world without you meaningless and I can't bear to take the journey without you."  
  
The silence that fell was so dense Bulma nearly coughed. And even though the words weren't his know, the feeling was real, and she knew he meant it.  
  
"Why do I love YOU?" she whispered. "Kiss me before I wake up."  
  
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
In the ballroom, the crowd was beginning to gather around the TV, everyone's voices seeming to say one thing: its almost here.  
  
Chi-Chi and Goku were finally alone again, but just as she began to speak, Maris ran into the room and grabbed her around the waist, spinning her around. Her face was red and her forehead was glistening with sweat.  
  
"Maris!" Chi-Chi snapped. "Don't scare me like that."  
  
"Sorry," she sighed. "I just wanted to let you know something."  
  
"Kami," she gasped in realization. "You had sex."  
  
Maris beamed brighter.  
  
"I hope it was 17 on top of you."  
  
"Nope."  
  
"What!?" It was Goku's turn to yell.  
  
"It was me on top of 17."  
  
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
Vegeta slowly inched his way back up Bulma's body, his mouth stopping at her moistened breasts for a moment before reaching her mouth. Their clothes were completely scattered across the room now, along with twenty condoms of assorted colors and textures.  
  
"Kami," Bulma gasped, her body shaking. "I hate to say it, but I'm glad you're experienced."  
  
"Duly noted," he retorted, positioning his body over hers. He captured her lips almost roughly, and slowly parted her legs with his hand. For a moment his fingers danced within her folds, sliding in and out of her teasingly. "Kami," he sighed, smiling down at her. He lifted his fingers to his lips and licked them in such a seductive manner Bulma left she might have another orgasm right then.  
  
He pressed much of his weight down on her, though was careful to give her enough room to breath. Bulma felt the tip of him at her dripping entrance and almost cried for him to stop teasing her.  
  
"Ready?" he whispered, his lips pressed to her ear. The softness of his voice, or maybe the sincerity, sent shivers down her spine.  
  
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
Maris, 17, 18, Krillin, Goku, and Chi-Chi were all gathered around the TV now, along with the other one hundred-plus guests. The clock said one minute and still Bulma and Vegeta were nowhere in sight.  
  
Goku's arms were around Chi-Chi's waist from behind, his chin resting on her shoulder. As the clock hit fifty seconds, Chi-Chi broke their silence.  
  
"Goku, I have to say this now or I never will. Are you listening?"  
  
He leaned his head forward so he could look at her eyes. Kami he loved her.  
  
"Yes, honey. I can hear you." Forty seconds.  
  
"Good," she sighed.  
  
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
"Kami yes," Bulma breathed. Vegeta smirked.  
  
"Tell me," he said, one hand finding one of her heaving breasts, his thumb and forefinger pinching her swollen nipple.  
  
"Kami…I want you Vegeta. You. No one else."  
  
"Good," he whispered.  
  
In the background, they could hear the party chanting dimly. The ball was dropping.  
  
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
Fifteen seconds.  
  
"Goku, there isn't any easy way to say this. I—"  
  
"Ten!" the crowd around them shouted.  
  
The couple cringed at the noise and stepped away from them.  
  
"Seven!…Six!…Five!…"  
  
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
Bulma let out a painful-sounding cry as Vegeta entered her, her nails instinctively digging into the flesh of his back. The crowd at the party cheered, "Happy New Year!" loudly, then faded into the background.  
  
She tried to meet his thrusts, but he was admittedly more skilled than her, and she let him take control. He pushed hard and fast, until it seemed they would both explode, and then suddenly his pace slowed and his lips found Bulma's. Her eyes snapped open and he smiled down at her, still managing to keep his steady rhythm.  
  
"You're mine," he said, and kissed her forehead. She nodded almost dumbly, and grabbed him around the shoulders. He obliged her plea and quickened his pace again.  
  
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
Streamers flew, people cheered, wine corks blasted to the ceiling, and Chi-Chi cried softly on Goku's shoulder. As the party crowd cheered, "One!", her words finally met his ears.  
  
"Are you sure?" he asked, stroking her soft black hair.  
  
She nodded into him.  
  
"How many—"  
  
"I took the test six times, Goku. I can't be any more pregnant."  
  
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
His final thrusts were almost savage in their need, and when he climaxed, so did she, and he collapsed on top of her. He slid to her side, with the help of their slick, sweaty bodies. He smiled over at her, expecting one in return, but all he received was a quivering lip and closed eyes.  
  
"What?" he asked, too shocked to be comforting. "Did I hurt you?"  
  
"No," Bulma sobbed, bringing her hands up to cover her eyes.  
  
"Then what?"  
  
"We forgot about the condom," she whispered through her fingers. Vegeta's eyes widened slightly as he remembered. They had a small fight, and during it he must have dropped the condom and then forgotten about it later on. He glanced down and sighed. She was right, no condom.  
  
"What're the chances—"  
  
She glared heavily at him.  
  
"Look," he said, pulling her into him. "When is your next period?"  
  
"A-About a week."  
  
"Wait until anything happens. If you're pregnant, well, I can't deny the child's mine."  
  
In his own little way, Vegeta was offering his undying affection and support. Bulma smiled meekly and kissed him. A moment later she gently pried open his hand and placed something in it. When he saw what it was he arched an eyebrow in confusion.  
  
"What?" she asked, grinning to her ears. "You think we're finished already?"  
  
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
---Chapter 29! Yay! Finally! Wow! I think that's the longest I've ever gone without updating this story. I'm sorry :( I've been soooooooooo unbelievably busy lately. Getting ready for college and what not. But I hope this was worth the wait, and I still have one more chapter before I'm done. :D  
  
REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (Reviews=More Chapters)  
  
Next time: The End :( tear  
  
P.S. Please, please, please tell me if anything is stupid or over the line in this chapter. I'd really, really appreciate it.  
  
P.P.S. Don't worry, I won't forget ANY loose ends in the next chapter. If I do…er…shoot me :P  
  
(For Bond's Girl: Man, I think it's just so hilarious that EVERY single time someone leaves a negative comment, they ALWAYS fail to leave their user name. I wonder why that is. Thinks a moment Well, the only logical explanation I can come up with is that they're afraid of me countering them on their comments. But that's just fine with me, less work for me…Now I don't have to deal with whiny people who read my fics even if they don't like them…Strange how that is, lol, but oh well, I guess I'll never figure it out. Personally, I only read what I like and I don't leave rude comments to satisfy some deep-seeded aggression—which, by the way, can't be helped by lashing out at other people, you might need to seek help for that, but it's not my call…Anyway, I'm sorry for those of you who have been loyal and trusting of me. I promise to deliver, and I do…So what if I twist reality a little bit. Yes, we all know about boss/worker relationships, yadda yadda, and we also know that dinosaurs weren't around when people were, but we still accept them on DBZ…I think my little "imaginary" scenario can be swallowed by most people, you know, the people who read these fics for entertainment and laughs, not to criticize every little detail because suddenly they're not satisfied and would rather have the story go in a different direction…My advice: Write your own fic and see who does better, me or you…I can only imagine the outcome…snickers…Oh dear, I'm being cruel, aren't I? Back me up readers. Unite! :P…I love you all and I hope this didn't bring anyone down too much, I know I sure enjoyed the little attempt to frustrate me, haha! Ignorance never wins! I triumphed!) 


	30. The End or Something Like It

Last time:  
  
In his own little way, Vegeta was offering his undying affection and support. Bulma smiled meekly and kissed him. A moment later she gently pried open his hand and placed something in it. When he saw what it was he arched an eyebrow in confusion.  
  
"What?" she asked, grinning to her ears. "You think we're finished already?"  
  
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
Over the next week, while school loomed so close, the two groups seemed inseparable, and it was now safe to say that there was only one group. Goku's health was returning rapidly, and within the month Green Dragon would start their postponed tour. Their new CD, which unbeknownst to the others was very near complete, and ready for mass production the day it was done.  
  
Two days after the New Year's Eve party, Bulma confronted Chi-Chi about her strange behavior, failing to mention her new relationship with Vegeta. It could wait for now. Chi-Chi confessed immediately and Bulma ended up comforting her for hours until she could peel herself away to call Krillin, Maris, and Goku. 17, 18, and Vegeta were gone that day to spend some time with old friends.  
  
Now, on this mild Sunday afternoon, just one day before school was to start up again, the entire group was gathered in Bulma's living room, discussing Chi-Chi's pregnancy. By now she'd accepted her fate and was open to talk about it, with her friends at least. Her father was still in the dark, as well as Goku's grandfather, and she planned on keeping it that way for some time.  
  
"So you're definitely going to have this baby?" Maris asked, sitting down next to 17 and setting a tray of lemonade on the coffee table. He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek, then grabbed a glass.  
  
"Of course I am," Chi-Chi almost snapped. "Who do you think I am? A barbarian?" A soft hum of laughter pulsed through the group, infecting Chi-Chi as well. "Besides," she continued, clearing her throat, "we have more than enough resources to care for a baby. Even if Goku wasn't rolling in money, my father has a very successful business that puts us well beyond your means."  
  
"You sound like a mother already," Bulma quipped. Beside her, Vegeta flinched. She looked at him out of the corner of her eye, and watched as his hand rose an inch or so, then fell. He wanted to hold her, be close to her like all the others, but it was Bulma who had wanted to wait for the right time to tell everyone. She sighed and grabbed his hand. Well, she thought, now was as good a time as any.  
  
As if on cue, Vegeta filled the six-inch gap between them, wrapping his arms tightly around her shoulders and burying his face in her neck. It was a heated, yet tender, show of affection, one that held passion, but enough restraint to not be bawdy.  
  
Everyone's eyes magnetized towards them, and each reaction was different. Maris and Goku both grinned from ear to ear, while Chi-Chi and Krillin couldn't seem to keep their eyes in their heads. And 17 and 18, looking more like twins now than ever before, let their jaws drop slightly, staring straight at the newly found couple.  
  
Vegeta's back straightened when he noticed the eyes on him, and lifted his head. But it was Bulma who did the talking.  
  
"Yes," she finally said, after what seemed like forever to their friends. "We're together."  
  
"Finally," Goku laughed, giving Vegeta a secret look that said how proud he was. So much had happened since his accident, since Vegeta had come into his hospital room, barely able to control his feelings. He'd hardly known their new friends then, but already he was falling for Chi-Chi, and Vegeta stood before him, cursing Kami that he couldn't get his mind off Bulma. "At the rate you were going, I thought you'd never get there. Congrates to you both."  
  
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
The next day at school was slow to say the least. News of Bulma and Vegeta's wild trip to Europe spread like wildfire, only being topped with the story of Vegeta's ex-wife from America and the child he could have had. As usual, there were whispers throughout the halls, especially when Bulma walked by, but she put an end to them soon enough.  
  
By lunchtime, however, the day seemed to be wearing on them all, and the group wanted nothing more than to be back at Capsule Corp., wrapped in the arms of their lovers.  
  
The dismissal bell rang finally, and from four different classrooms, they sighed with relief and headed for their lockers, then home.  
  
"Kami, can you believe how long today was?" Krillin groaned, a few steps ahead of the others as they headed for the parking lot.  
  
"I know!" Chi-Chi agreed. "And the homework. Kami. It's like they're punishing us for having vacation."  
  
"It gets better though," Bulma sighed, pointing at her car. "It snowed all day."  
  
"I can top that," Maris said, pulling the others to a stop, just as Maron ducked into her car and closed the door. A few seconds earlier, and she would have seen them. "She still try to talk to you, Krill?"  
  
"Not today." Ever since news of him and 18 got out, Maron had been calling him, begging to be taken back. Luckily he hadn't run into her all day. "But I'm not getting my hopes up."  
  
"Don't sound so gloomy cueball," came a familiar voice from behind the group. They spun around and came face to face with the people they'd been fantasizing about all day. They separated to their respective significant others, and headed once again for the parking lot, the cold seeming not to effect them anymore.  
  
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
"Oh come on!" Bulma pleaded, as she straddled Vegeta, clad in only her baby blue bra and matching underwear. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail, a few loose strands framing her face. And while Vegeta preferred she wear her hair down, she was just as irresistible this way.  
  
"Don't ask me again," he sighed, itching to remove the remainder of her clothing. Why did she have to be so irritating and so sexy at the same time?  
  
"Then tell me why. Give me one good reason and I'll stop bugging you."  
  
"Because," he said, evoking his most serious tone, "I don't want to."  
  
"That's not good enough." She pouted out her bottom lip and crossed her arms, involuntarily pushing her breasts up.  
  
"Don't do that. You know I can't stand that."  
  
"I know." She cracked a smile and leaned down, giving him a chaste kiss on the forehead. "That's why I do it. Now tell me."  
  
"I said—"  
  
"Tell me right now, or I'll get dressed and lock myself in my lab."  
  
Vegeta groaned and shook his head. Women.  
  
No, he thought with a wry smile. Not women…Bulma.  
  
"What's that look for?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. That look was never good.  
  
"Just reminding myself why I wanted to be tied down by one woman."  
  
"Oh really," she said, smiling wide. "And why is that?"  
  
"Because I'm insane."  
  
"Vegeta!" She smacked him hard on the chest and shook her head. "You're an ass."  
  
"I know." He smirked. "But you love me."  
  
"I damn well better to put up with your shit." She crossed her arms again and looked away, looking almost hurt. Gently, Vegeta reached up and pried open her arms, pulling her down to rest comfortably on top of him, her head resting on his chest.  
  
After several minutes of him massaging her head in that way only he could do, Bulma felt the weight of her day and gave over to a great yawn.  
  
"You're tired," Vegeta whispered, kissing her forehead. "Go to sleep."  
  
"No," Bulma protested. "Not until you tell me."  
  
"Fine," he sighed. He'd had enough of their little game. "I don't want to reconcile with my mother because I don't want to admit I was wrong, ok? Are you happy now?"  
  
"Very happy," she beamed, pulling his head to hers for a passionate kiss. "Mmm…Suddenly I'm not so tired."  
  
"Good." He smirked and pulled her closer, if that was possible. "Because I wasn't going to let you sleep."  
  
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
Early the next morning, Vegeta awoke to an empty bed and a burning desire to have Bulma in his arms. The place beside him was cold, her imprint long gone, as he must have distorted it while he slept in her absence.  
  
He sat up on his elbows and yawned, noting the time before he pulled himself from the warm blankets and pulled on his pants. When he reached the kitchen, Mrs. Briefs was just setting the table, milk, orange juice, and a stack of toast already there. She noticed him before he could escape down the hall in search of Bulma, and smiled knowingly. She too had been adventurous as a young woman, bringing her future husband to stay the night without her parents' knowledge. But Vegeta was far bolder than the young Dr. Briefs, or even Yamcha, who had climbed out her window at dawn.  
  
"Well don't just stand there," she said, smiling over her shoulder from her place at the stove. "Sit down. I already called Bulma in the lab, she'll be up shortly. Just needs to clean the grease off her hands." She paused for a moment, caught between a giggle. "And face…And arms…Oh, what a daughter I have."  
  
Vegeta sat in silence, his arms crossed on the table in front of him, clad in only his jeans. He wondered what Bulma would think of him venturing out of her room at the smell of food. Certainly her ex hadn't dared. And truthfully, he wouldn't have either had he known she was still in the kitchen.  
  
"Perfect," Mrs. Briefs murmured across the room, then slid a delicious-looking stack of pancakes onto a plate and delivered them to the table, where Vegeta was drooling with his mouth open. "My, you are hungry, aren't you?" she said, noting his anticipation. "Well, go ahead. Bulma won't mind."  
  
"Says who?" came her voice as she entered the room, her hair wet and hanging on her shoulders, bathrobe tied tight around her perfect frame. Vegeta was almost too stunned to eat. "Good morning," she said, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek, before taking a seat beside him. "You sure slept well."  
  
"Of course he did," her mother chirped, bringing over another batch of pancakes, this time ones containing chocolate chips. "You must have tired him out."  
  
Vegeta's eyes widened and he stared at the older, yet still attractive woman, in disbelief. Had he just heard right?  
  
"Mom," Bulma groaned, though her tone was nothing but playful. "Don't embarrass Vegeta. Look, he's stopped eating because of you."  
  
"Sorry dear," Mrs. Briefs said with a wink, then went back to her cooking.  
  
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
"Sorry we surprised you in there," Bulma said, as they exited the kitchen to get dressed for the day. They were meeting the rest of the gang for lunch, then indoor paintball, a game Vegeta insist Bulma would like. "But you don't have to feel weird around my mom, she's great. I tell her everything. She was the first to know that we were a couple."  
  
"You're a strange family," Vegeta grunted in response.  
  
"We're open, that's all."  
  
"You tell your mother everything?"  
  
"Everything. I even told her about the night we got together, and how we forgot to use a condom. And then I told her when I got my period and that I wasn't pregnant."  
  
"That Kami for that," he sighed, grabbing her waist and pulling her to him. "How much time do we have before we're meeting them?"  
  
Bulma did the easy math in her head and came up with three hours.  
  
"Perfect."  
  
"You know," Bulma said, as they reached the door to her room. "This is the one thing I knew was never going to be a problem for us. Romance, on the other hand…"  
  
"—will be impossible," he finished for her, sweeping her off the ground and pushing open the door.  
  
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
For nearly a month, things were perfect and the couples, as well as the group, were inseparable. Until, that is, they received a call from Jun, informing them that the tour was beginning that weekend in Satan City. And while the news of the first show was wonderful, it was bittersweet. There would only be one concert, and then they were doing their countrywide tour for three months, before flying to the United States for another month.  
  
The day before the concert, everyone's nerves seemed to be shot. Chi-Chi was doubly irritable with hormone changes, but Goku was all too cheerful to help her in any way. Both their guardians had been told, which added to the stress, but the waters were calm now and everyone seemed to finally fully accept the situation. Chi-Chi was pregnant, and she and Goku were going to be parents. Nothing was ever going to be the same.  
  
"Jun says we need to get married," Goku said, the last of the pizza beginning to wind down. No one wanted to admit that they were tired to exhaustion. After tomorrow, who knew when they'd see each other again. Certainly not everyday like they were used to.  
  
"Are you?" Bulma asked, eyeing Chi-Chi. She'd never brought up the subject before.  
  
"Of course not," Chi-Chi answered, almost hurt by Bulma's accusatory tone. "We've only been together for a few months. I'm not going to let someone I barely know talk me into marriage just because I'm pregnant. I don't care what the tabloids are going to say about me, because I'll know none of it is true."  
  
"And you agree?" Bulma asked, turning her attention to Goku.  
  
"I'm with Chi-Chi no matter what she decides. It's her body that has to go through so much. I think I can handle Jun. It's not like I don't love Chi-Chi and am going to abandon her and the baby. I think she'll come around."  
  
"I hope so," Chi-Chi yawned. "I don't want to spend my pregnancy in a rut because of her bad attitude. If I have to have a baby, I want to enjoy the big belly I'm going to have."  
  
"Chi."  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Come on honey, let's get back to my house before you fall asleep."  
  
"But—"  
  
"We can see everyone tomorrow at the concert, just like planned. You need to rest anyway. You've been busy all day."  
  
She finally caved after a few minutes, and they said their good-byes and left.  
  
Soon after Krillin, 18, 17, and Maris departed to the twins' house, where they were staying the night before the concert the next day. But, seeing as both Krillin and Maris' parents were quite strict when it came to new relationships for their children, they had to say they were staying with the other twin: Maris with 18, and Krillin with 17. In the end, their parents were satisfied, and they were able to get past their radar and have a nice last night together.  
  
Now it was only Bulma and Vegeta left in the living room, content in their silence. Before long they went to bed, too tired for anything but sleep.  
  
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
Bulma tumbled unceremoniously out of bed, though was careful enough to not wake her slumbering prince charming. In stark contrast to his behavior, he actually slept like an angel, hardly moving unless he was having a bad dream, in which case he usually woke her up and kept right on sleeping.  
  
Tonight, however, it was not his nightmares that woke her, but a sharp pain in her abdomen. She felt her way in the dark to her bathroom and shut the door, fumbling with the light switch.  
  
"Thank Kami," she sighed, pressing hard into her gut. She was a week and a half over due with her period, but knew it would come. Ever since that first night, they'd gone through boxes of condoms.  
  
But, when she pulled off her pajama bottoms and underwear to change them, she noticed in horror that there was no blood. Not even a drop.  
  
"You're just freaking yourself out," she whispered, looking at her reflection in the mirror. "It's too improbable for two high school friends to become pregnant at the same time," she reasoned, the scientific part of her brain taking over. "Just take the damn pregnancy test and see that you're only being paranoid."  
  
In the far back of the cabinet under the sink, Bulma had a box of pregnancy tests just in case she skipped her period. Only once had she used one, back when she was dating Yamcha. Quickly, she grabbed a stick from the box and shoved the rest back into the shadows.  
  
When she was done, she couldn't look at it, and let it sit on the sink.  
  
A few minutes later, there was a knock at the door.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"I have to pee," came Vegeta annoyed voice. Clearly he'd been awake for some time and had seen the light on.  
  
"Just a second." Before she lost her nerve completely, she looked at the plastic stick on the sink, knowing it would change her life forever. But she wouldn't let herself believe what she was seeing. "No," she whispered, cupping a hand over her mouth, tears already forming. "No, it's impossible."  
  
"Hurry up," Vegeta grumbled. "Unless you want me to piss on your floor."  
  
But she wasn't paying attention to anything but the piece of plastic that was sending waves of panic through her. Tonight, of all nights, she had to find this out. How could Vegeta comfort her when he was touring with the band?  
  
She sighed deeply and wiped her eyes.  
  
When she opened the door, Vegeta glared straight at her, though his eyes softened when he noticed how puffy hers were.  
  
"Were you crying?" he asked bluntly.  
  
"Yeah," she said, forcing a laugh, a piece of crumbled tissue in her hand. "I'm just being stupid. I'm really going to miss you and the guys when you're gone."  
  
Without hesitation, he pulled her to him and kissed her on the forehead. When he stepped back and into the bathroom, he said, "Did you get your period this month? You never told me." Gracelessly he lifted the toilet seat and started to urinate, as if she weren't there.  
  
"Yeah. Tonight actually. I woke up with cramps."  
  
"I figured that," he said, flushing the toilet. He washed his hands quickly, then hooked his arm around her waist and guided her back to bed. For the next hour, they talked about the tour and where they were going and how when they went to certain places she could visit. By three AM, they'd talked themselves to sleep, curled in each other's arms.  
  
And, just before she fell asleep, Bulma silently prayed to Kami for strength to tell Vegeta before he left.  
  
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
The concert was bustling with annoying screaming girls, devoted punk rockers, and children so young Bulma felt their parents should be with them. It was just about to start, and the crowd was riled up to the breaking point. Bulma and the others were still backstage, wishing them good luck for the last time before going into the pit.  
  
As the lights started to shift, they were guided out to the audience, and Bulma still hadn't told Vegeta the news. She wondered if she could before they left that night. She was about to ask Chi-Chi what time it was, when she realized she wasn't there.  
  
"Where's Chi?" she asked, the press of the crowd annoyingly close.  
  
"Goku grabbed her," Krillin said.  
  
"Yeah," Maris offered. "He told me he was going to do something, wouldn't say what. But he promised she'd be in the pit before the show started."  
  
Just as Bulma was about to reply, the speakers kicked on and the crowd roared. Seconds later the curtains opened, revealing Green Dragon and a fifth familiar face. Bulma couldn't even guess why Goku would bring her on stage.  
  
"Welcome to the show," 17 said, stepped up to his mic. The crowd roared again in excitement. "Sorry about the delay in the tour, but I'm sure you all can deal with it if Goku isn't a bloody mess on the side of the road." He cracked a wide grin and the audience burst into laughter. Over the months of his recovery, Goku received bags full of letters from fans. No one cared that the tour was postponed, just as long as he was ok. "And, on the subject of Goku." He stepped back, and Goku walked over and took his place, pulling Chi-Chi along with him.  
  
The crowd went silent. Everyone knew who she was.  
  
"I trust you know my lovely companion," Goku said, gesturing to Chi-Chi. She smiled meekly, and even from where she stood, Bulma could see she was blushing. "Isn't she gorgeous guys?" Every male, and some females too, chanted at his question. Of course she was gorgeous, no one could argue that. "Do you think our hellion children will be gorgeous too?" Again the crowd cheered that yes, the kids would be beautiful.  
  
There was a long pause, in which time the crowd seemed to grow restless.  
  
"Ok, enough beating around the bush," Goku sighed. "There's a reason I brought her up here, and it wasn't to show her off, though I love doing that." He winked at Chi-Chi, who forced a smile. "I don't want you all hearing this slandered in a tabloid or on the news, so I'm going to tell you before anyone else knows." He paused dramatically, then said what Bulma had been dreading he would say. "My beautiful girlfriend, Chi-Chi, and I are going to have a baby." He placed his hand on her stomach, and after a slight pause, the crowd cheered again, completely in support. Bulma was shocked for a moment, but then she too cheered, hoping her announcement would bring as much joy. Something told her it wouldn't. "So take care of her in the pit."  
  
When the cheering subsided, and Chi-Chi was safely lifted by a security guard into the pit, Vegeta stepped up to his mic. He hesitated for a moment, as he scanned the crowd, his eyes finally landing on Bulma before he spoke.  
  
"Good job," he said, looking back at Goku as he pulled on his guitar. "Even I haven't knocked up a girl yet." As if on cue, the crowd pulsed with laughter again, then quickly stopped when he began to speak again. "Usually we do this song last, because, well, because it's the 'good-bye' song," he said, doing air quotes with his fingers and rolling his eyes. "But fuck tradition, I'm doing the song now. So shut up and listen."  
  
The music started to play and Bulma felt her heart stop. This song always gave her chills, which were tenfold now. When Vegeta started to sing, however, her mind was wiped clean and all she could do was listen.  
  
"Another turning point, a fork stuck in the road. Time grabs you by the wrist, directs you where to go. So make the best of this test, and don't ask why. It's not a question, but a lesson learned in time." His voice rang out over the sea of people, thousands of voice singing along with him. All Bulma could do was stare. "It's something unpredictable, but in the end is right. I hope you had the time of your life.  
  
"So take the photographs and still frames in your mind. Hang it on a shelf of good health and good time. Tattoos of memories and dead skin on trial. For what it's worth, it was worth all the while." Bulma found herself singing the last line, the words having a worth new meaning. "It's something unpredictable, but in the end is right. I hope you had the time of your life."  
  
The song played out to the end, winding down as all songs did, Vegeta's voice tapering off and sounding bewilderingly amazing. And, as he sang the last line, "It's something unpredictable, but in the end is right. I hope you had the time of your life," Bulma burst into tears.  
  
"B, what's wrong?" Krillin asked, pulling her into a tight embrace. She sobbed on his shoulder until the start of the next song, all the while knowing Vegeta's eyes were on her, and that no matter how much she wanted to, she couldn't tell him before he left.  
  
Quickly, she wiped her eyes with her sleeve and looked up at the stage, immediately catching Vegeta's eyes. He looked startled, but to the crowd he was just an angry singer, belting out the lyrics. As that song came to a close, he held her eyes and mouthed, "What is it?"  
  
She only smiled and shook her head. There was no reason to ruin their last day together. She would find time to tell him over the phone, or the next time she saw him. But not today. Today she was going to forget her problems, focus on the concert, and have the time of her life.  
  
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  
  
---Chapter 30! THE END! OMG! I can't believe it's over. Kuso! I wanna cry! Blubbers like a baby Oh why does it have to end!? Oh well, at least it was a good ending, or so I think :P Heehee. I happen to be very proud of the way I ended it. Not too dramatic, but with enough…er…zest to go out with a bang. Zest? Hmm…I sound like I'm trying to sell soap. But I assure you, I am not. :P  
  
REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (Reviews=The Perfect End)  
  
Last Notes: I love everyone! Well, expect for the flamers, they can go flame themselves to death. LOL! I really hope everyone liked the story and the ending. I hope it wasn't to sudden of an ending and that I didn't leave anything unsaid, but I think I pretty much wrapped everything up.  
  
About The Song: The song I used in this chapter was Good Riddance (Time of Your Life) by Green Day, of course. Please don't sue me!  
  
Oh, and one more thing…  
  
THERE'S A SEQUEL!!! WOOOO!!!  
  
I know, I know, another sequel. But hey, don't worry, it's going to be just as good as the first story. I didn't plan on a sequel like I did for Falling For The Neighbor Boy, it just sort of happened. I realized that I had too much planned and so much already written, that the story would end up being eighty chapters and drag on forever. I figured a sequel was the best way to fit in everything and not have it seem like I'm dragging it all out. I am, of course, going to wait some time before posting the sequel, but I do have all the ideas ready and waiting to be typed. And trust me, you will love it. :) The stuff I have planned is brilliant, or so I think, and I hope you agree. Oh, by the way, the sequel is going to be called "Green Dragon: The New Album." Clever, huh? :P  
  
Well, there's really nothing more for me to say, other than thank you for being my readers and I hope to see your reviews in the sequel. Byeeeeeeeeee! 


End file.
